


you said, i will keep my focus until the end

by deluxemycroft



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (but sexy), 24/7 bdsm relationship, BDSM, Biting, Boot Worship, Come Eating, Come Kink, Deaf Clint Barton, Dominance, Domination, Human Furniture, Kink Negotiation, Kneeling, M/M, Objectification, Piss kink, Post-Avengers (2012), Religion Kink, Smoking, Submission, Submission Kink, Time Skips, Verbal Humiliation, Waterboarding, Watersports, Worship, worship kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:08:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 24,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21835699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deluxemycroft/pseuds/deluxemycroft
Summary: Clint Barton is a man with a crisis of faith.Or, at least, he was.Now he has Loki.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Loki, James "Bucky" Barnes/Thor, Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson
Comments: 10
Kudos: 139





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> december 17th is loki's birthday, so happy birthday loki! here's some porn. i tried to finish the entire fic before today, but didn't quite work out. i should finish it in the next few days.
> 
> this fic is...well, it's a lot. i had a bunch of ideas for various fics that i ended up all kind of conglomerating into this one fic. it's literally just 90% porn with like 10% plot. i originally planned on it being just porn but the plot kind of snuck up on me.
> 
> read the warnings!

Clint is cleaning his nails with an arrow while the other Avengers argue around him. They don’t really bring him into the conversation, but no one ever really does, not when it’s about Loki. They don’t know how to broach that subject. Neither does Clint, really, but that’s life.

“I’ll go,” he says finally, laying the arrow on the table and looking around. Cap is frowning at him and Stark looks fed-up. Thor just looks confused, but he looks confused a lot. “He won’t underestimate you again,” he says to Natasha, who nods slowly, eyes narrowing at him. “He’ll just kill you,” he tells Stark, who tries to argue, but Clint holds up a hand. “Trust me, if he really wanted to, you’d be dead.” He motions to Thor. “You go, nothing’ll get done. You’ll just argue.” Clint looks to Banner. “He’ll kill you or antagonize you until the Hulk comes out and then he’ll just run while you’re busy destroying a building.” He points to Cap. “He absolutely hates you. Won’t listen to a thing you say, and you’ll end up getting pissed and it’ll end in a fight that, trust me, you won’t win. So that leaves me.”

They all argue over each other. The only one who doesn’t say anything is Thor, and that’s because he’s looking at Clint like he’s just realized he’s more than just a guy who shoots a bow and arrow. Which he isn’t, not really, but Clint just calmly looks back. Thor breaks eye contact and looks at the other Avengers and then nods to himself.

“Your assessment of my brother is not wrong,” Thor says slowly, voice clear over the din of the other Avengers, who all slowly quiet down and look at him. “What makes you think he won’t kill you on sight?”

“I just do,” Clint replies simply. “I was in his head, same as he was in mine.” He shrugs. “Whatever Loki’s doing with Barnes, it’s a power play. This wasn’t a coincidence. Trust me, he knows everything about each of you. However he got Barnes, it’s for a reason. Let’s throw him off his game.”

 _I miss him,_ is what he doesn’t say. He can barely say it to himself, after all. _It’s been a year and I still dream about him. It’s been a year and it feels like there’s something missing and I know it’s him._

“We’re going to have to clear this through SHIELD,” Cap finally sighs out, but Clint knows he’s going to let him go anyway. If not because he thinks Clint is right, then for Barnes. Clint knows what Loki knows: Barnes is Cap’s weak spot. He won’t let anything happen to his best friend.

Clint nods. Natasha comes around the table and leans up against it, knocking her leg against his, crossing her arms over her chest. She looks down at him like she’s looking for something. “This isn’t a good idea,” she tells him, voice quiet.

“No,” Clint agrees. “But it’s all we got.”

She doesn’t look like she agrees with him but she nods anyway. Without looking away from him, she pulls a phone from a pouch on her belt and hands it over to Cap. “Speed dial 3. You’ll get clearance for this mission through there.”

Cap fiddles with the phone for a few seconds before Stark sighs dramatically and shows him how to do it. The guy has mostly figured out modern technology but still sometimes gets stymied, which is always funny to see. Cap turns away from them as he holds the phone up to his ear, and he talks quietly to whoever answers.

“You really don’t think he’ll kill you?” Starks asks, sidling up on Clint’s other side and popping some food in his mouth. 

Clint shrugs. “If he wanted to, I’d already be dead.”

“Fair enough,” Stark decides. He motions to Banner. “Why isn’t he dead, then? Loki must be seriously pissed at him.”

Clint frowns at him. “Not sure,” he says finally, but he knows it’s a lie. The truth is that Loki doesn’t care about any of them, not enough to do anything about it. Oh, he’d antagonize them if he got the chance, even kill some of them if the opportunity presented itself, but Loki doesn’t care enough about a couple of slightly powered up humans to go hunting them down for sport. He meets Thor’s gaze.

“It is possible he is scared of the Hulk,” Thor offers up, and it sounds like a lie to Clint, but Banner and Natasha both nod.

Cap argues with someone and lets out a huff, then hangs up the phone and glares at it before handing it back to Natasha. “They don’t want you to go,” Cap grumbles, shaking his head. “Think you’re a liability. But I convinced them otherwise.”

Clint nods. He was right. Weak spot.

* * *

Intel indicated Loki was holed up in an apartment near Central Park. They had CCTV footage and pictures of him and Barnes out taking walks and getting coffee together at cafes and eating lunch together. It all set Clint’s teeth on edge, made something uncomfortable rise up in his gut, but he didn’t say anything, just looked through the video stills and the surveillance pictures and nodded. 

“All we’re looking for right now is confirmation he actually has Bucky,” Cap tells him. “The goal is capture and rescue, but it seems the way you want to go about this is the slow way.”

“Don’t think Loki can go any other way,” Clint mutters, holding a picture away from him so he can see it better. Across the table, Thor snorts.

“We have two surveillance vans posted here and here,” Stark says, pointing to two different places on a satellite map, Loki’s apartment building circled in red. “You’ll also be wearing a wire and a small body cam.” He holds up a button and then hands it over. Clint peers at it and holds it up to the light like he knows what he’s looking for. “Don’t break that,” Stark barks, reaching forward to snatch it out of his hand. “Took me three days to make that.”

“Slowing down in your old age?” Clint asks teasingly, and then looks up to see Natasha frowning at him from the other side of the table. She’s made her disapproval clear. Usually, when they’re in mission briefings like this, they’re constantly deliberating and talking over the best plan of attack and arguing with their handler and Clint kind of feels like he’s lost part of himself when Nat doesn’t smile at him.

Stark says something mean that he doesn’t hear, but Clint looks up at him when he mentions that he also made Clint new hearing aids. Stark tech is the fucking _bomb_ for hearing aids. Clint eagerly holds out his hands and Stark hands them over. Clint pulls out the old ones and slides the new ones in and Stark turns them on for him, fiddling with the miniscule buttons to find the right volume.

“Wow,” Clint says, blinking in shock as sound starts coming in. Then he frowns. “Wow,” he says again. “Wait, that’s what I sound like?”

“Yeah,” Stark snorts at him. “You’ll get used to it. We all did, anyway.” He goes on to detail the tech and how the aids are integrated with corresponders so he can talk to the rest of the Avengers and his handler without needing an extra piece of tech. 

Natasha and Thor are the only ones who see him slide his hand over his old aids and secret them away. Clint listens eagerly to the rest of the briefing and memorizes everything.

He smiles.

He’s ready.

* * *

Clint stands outside Loki’s apartment building and looks up. He feels kind of naked without his bow but Cap had thoroughly patted him down to make sure he wasn’t carrying any weapons. They don’t want Loki to see him as a threat. Nat made sure he has a couple small daggers on him anyway. 

He sighs and walks up to the door, giving the doorman an uncomfortable wave as he opens the door for him. The front desk employees just smile at him and one of them even gets up and hits the elevator button for him. He swallows as he gets on the elevator and the employee hits the penthouse button for him. 

Loki knew he was coming. 

The elevator ride stretches on for an age. “How you doin’?” Cap crackles in his ear. “Good?”

“I’m just peachy,” Clint says, and the elevator doors open. He steps out into the hall and looks down the hallway. There’s a door at each end. Their intel knew Loki lived in this building and on the top floor, but not which one. Clint is gonna have to guess. 

He takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes and lets his heart guide him. He’s felt a pull for the last year and for the first time, he’s listening to it instead of ignoring it. 

Clint opens his eyes and goes left. He knows on the door and waits as patiently as he can, hands clasped behind his back to hide the way he’s shaking. 

Barnes opens the door, looking faintly annoyed. He’s wearing loose black leggings and a dark blue shirt that’s open at the throat and missing the left sleeve, showing off his metal arm. He looks—he looks good. Well-rested, well-fed, shiny hair, nothing like the pictures in his Winter Soldier file. 

A sudden cold realization sweeps through Clint and he doesn’t know what to say. What if he’s been replaced? What if Loki got tired of waiting for him and found someone else? What if that’s why Barnes is here and Clint is—

“Who are you?” Barnes asks, and his voice is deeper than Clint was expecting.

“I’m Clint,” he replies simply, not entirely sure what he’s supposed to say. “I’m here to see Loki.” Great, now he sounds like a kid wanting to play with their neighbor.

Barnes frowns at him, but before he says anything, Loki’s voice carries through the apartment. “Soldier?” he calls, and something strange happens to Barnes’s face, something that Clint isn’t quite sure how to describe. “Who is it?”

“Says his name is Clint,” Barnes calls back.

“Well, let him in then!”

“You told me to watch for an archer,” Barnes argues stubbornly, moving to block the doorway with his body. “This is just some guy.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

Clint rolls his eyes. “Let me in,” he tries, but Barnes doesn’t move. Clint knows he’s no match for a guy like Barnes but he heard Loki’s voice and there’s panic rising in his throat at the thought of not being able to see him.

There’s a shuffle from deeper inside the apartment and then the faint sound of feet padding on the floor. If Clint wasn’t wearing the new hearing aids, he knows he wouldn’t have even caught it. Loki comes around a corner and Clint—

Clint is dumbstruck.

Green eyes flicker over him and Loki’s mouth thins. “That’s him,” he tells Barnes. “Move over and let him in, you fool.”

Barnes grumbles under his breath but moves aside. Clint cautiously walks through the door and follows Loki deeper into the apartment, barely registering that Barnes locked him in. Loki leads him to a massive open room with a few couches and a TV and a few small tables piled with books, and motions Clint to stop in the center of the room. He does, watching Loki as he walks around, perfectly comfortable in his home and with Clint there. Barnes picks up a book and sits down on one of the couches and pretends to read. Clint knows better but he can’t look away from Loki long enough to think about it.

“Loki,” he finally rasps out, and the god, his god, turns to him. He looks better than he did a year ago—his skin has filled in, he’s less sallow, his hair is no longer hanging in greasy clumps, and he looks like he’s been taking care of himself. Clint’s chest aches at the sight of him, and, at the same time, tension eases out of his gut, tension he didn’t even know he was carrying.

“Agent Barton,” Loki says smoothly, stopping a few feet in front of him. “You look...tired.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh?” Loki asks, and he takes a step closer, eyes tracking over Clint’s body in a way that makes him feel vulnerable and naked. “Is that so?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He knows he doesn’t look well; he hasn’t looked well in a year. Every day has gotten harder and harder to get out of bed, to feed himself, to make sure he’s in good enough condition to do his job. But he knew he would end up back here where he belonged, and that was all that made him push through.

Something crackles in his ear and he winces and looks down, finally breaking eye contact. “What are you doing here, Agent Barton?” Loki asks, turning away.

“I’m here for Barnes,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder at the man on the couch. “Cap wants him back.”

“Oh, that won’t do,” Loki mutters, almost to himself. “The Captain could not come claim his friend himself?”

“Figured you’d kill him.”

Loki considers that. “I would, perhaps, give it my best shot, as they say.”

Clint snorts. “Wouldn’t expect anything different.”

“So, you are here to appeal to my better nature?”

Clint smiles, feeling like he’s found a comfortable groove again. He knows where he belongs now. “Didn’t realize you had one.”

“Oh, how rude.” But Loki is smiling, even if its slight. “Now, Agent Barton, why on Midgard would I give up such an accomplished and willing soldier?” Clint looks at Barnes again, and then slowly and cautiously, lifts his hands to his ears.

“I’m here to make a trade.”

He waits just long enough to hear everyone on the other end erupt into chaos, and then pulls the hearing aids out. He meets Loki’s smiling, smug gaze and crushes them underneath his boot. Loki reaches out a long-fingered hand and Clint doesn’t look away from him as he yanks off the button and pulls up his shirt to pull off the wire, obediently handing them over. He pulls out his old hearing aids and Loki shakes his head when he goes to put them in, so he crushes them under his boot as well. He sees that Loki clicks his fingers and Clint goes down on one knee to pull the knives out of his boots, and then doesn’t get up as he holds them up for Loki to take.

Loki’s slim fingers wrap coolly around Clint’s as he gently pulls the knives from Clint’s hands. He moves a bit closer and brings his free hand up to press the pads of his fingers to Clint’s jaw, and there’s a sudden strange sensation as he hears a _click_ and then a _pop._

“It is not permanent,” Loki tells him, and Clint briefly closes his eyes, swimming in the sound of his voice. “But it will do for now.”

“Yes, sir,” Clint replies, and leans his head into Loki’s grasp. Loki lets him for a minute and then pulls him to his feet, giving him another disapproving look. Clint can’t seem to look away. “Barnes,” he says, and behind him, Barnes makes a sound like he’s listening, or maybe like he doesn’t care. “Tell Nat I’m sorry, would you?”

“Alright,” Barnes says warily, and Clint doesn’t even hear him. All he has are eyes and ears for Loki.

Loki leads him away. Clint would follow him anywhere.

* * *

They turn Barnes loose the next day. Clint watches from the window as Cap finds him wandering the street and the two of them hug and then Cap herds him into a nearby van. At least Barnes is safe. He asks Loki why he took him but Loki merely gives him an amused look and doesn’t answer. They’re kind of in a weird limbo state for the next few days while Clint wanders around the huge apartment and Loki doesn’t tell him what to do. That’s fine, though. Clint has been lost for the past year, and he’s with Loki now. He can wait.

Loki begins questioning him. _What did the Avengers do with the Scepter? Where is the Tesseract? What did they do to you to ensure the control I had over your mind was gone? What did Thor do when you said you wanted to come to me? Is he still upon Midgard? Why did you say they believed you a security risk?_

He answers everything and gives all the information he can think of. He talks for hours. Loki listens patiently, hands clasped in his lap, eyes never straying from Clint. Finally, Clint’s voice breaks from talking for so long and he goes quiet, taking the glass of water that Loki floats over for him.

“Do they believe you came to me of your own free will?” Loki finally queries. He sits in such a way that he looks like he’s high up on a throne, when in reality he’s relaxed on a couch. It makes Clint want to kneel at his feet.

“I think they’re going to think you spelled me again,” he says after thinking about it for a minute. “I think Nat had an idea what I was going to do, but I don’t think she’ll say anything.”

Loki’s mouth turns down for a brief moment at the mention of Natasha, but he doesn’t mention anything about her. “Thor?”

Clint rubs at his face. He has maybe a slighter better idea of the tumultuous relationship between the two brothers than the average person, but he still doesn’t really understand it. What he does know, however, is the way Thor had looked whenever Loki had been brought up in conversation. He knows the way Thor looked at him when he’d volunteered to be the one to go talk to Loki about Barnes. “I think he’s more on your side than you think,” he finally sighs out.

Loki doesn’t say anything. Eventually, he motions Clint to the kitchen, where Loki watches as Clint tries to put together some sort of meal from the weird shit in his fridge. He ends up baking potatoes and mixing together a meatloaf and then gets to work cleaning, feeling like he needs to put himself to use. He’s scrubbing the stove when he hears Loki move, and he freezes as cool fingers slide across his back. He straightens up and looks up at Loki.

“I never asked,” Loki murmurs, voice barely a whisper, as he reaches forward to set his hand against Clint’s neck. He swallows against his grasp. “Why did you come to me?”

Clint shivers. “I haven’t slept for a year,” he says in the same barely-there tone Loki used. “Whenever I did, I saw you. I looked everywhere and you were gone. I couldn’t...live like that. Without you.”

“Were you like this when you were under my control the first time?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t remember. All I knew was that everything finally made sense.”

“Oh?” Loki murmurs, and he towers over Clint, a god above him, and something in his eyes flares when Clint lets out an involuntary whimper. “Yet you still left me.”

“They made me,” he says. “I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

Loki’s mouth turns down and he pulls back right before the timer goes off. Clint shakes his head clear and then pulls everything out of the oven and gets to work making Loki a plate. Loki perches at the kitchen table and takes the plate and the glass of wine Clint brings him, and Clint’s knees shiver with the need to kneel at Loki’s feet.

 _Not yet,_ something tells him. _He’ll tell you when it’s time._

He makes his own plate and joins Loki at the table, keeps his eyes on his food as Loki watches him. Hopefully, it’s time soon.

* * *

They leave Earth a week later. Clint feels gluttonous with the amount of time he’s gotten alone with Loki. Even when he was under control of the Scepter he didn’t get this kind of one-on-one time with his god. They end up going to a small outpost off another planet. Clint wants to explore but Loki locks him in their small rented room and leaves him behind for a few hours. Clint feels like a feral cat climbing the walls as he paces, waiting for Loki’s return.

When Loki does come back, he looks smug, and he’s carrying a small white box, which he hands to Clint, who stares down at it like it might be a bomb. Loki twists something on either end of it and it opens like a flower, revealing something that looks like food and smells fucking _delicious_. Loki motions for him to take the first bite and Clint does, moaning as he eats.

Loki pauses and then watches him with hooded eyes.

It tastes like every good thing Clint has ever eaten. It takes like teriyaki chicken and sushi and mac’n’cheese and pizza and coffee somehow and lasagna and it’s _so fucking good_ he’s even getting a little turned on by it. He pauses for a moment and offers the rest of the food up to Loki, who shakes his head and motions for him to finish it. He moans as he eats and when he finishes the food, it feels like he just got edged for an hour and he’s finally going to be allowed to come.

“What is that?” he gasps out, licking his lips. “Can I have more?”

Loki’s green eyes are dark and he looks like a cat about to pounce. “It is called _kras_. It means delicacy. And yes, I will get you more.” He reaches out, slowly, carefully, and Clint watches his hand as it comes closer and then gently sets his fingers against the rapid, fluttering pulse in Clint’s neck. “As much as you want.”

“I could live on that stuff,” Clint replies fervently. He looks up at Loki and smiles at him, leans his cheek into Loki’s hand as it moves up his neck to cup his jaw. “Did you get anything else?”

Loki shakes his head, moves back so there’s a few inches in between them, clasps his hands behind his back. “We will only be here another night,” he informs Clint, who nods. “Then we go back to Midgard.”

“Great,” Clint replies. “For the Tesseract?”

Loki nods. He makes a show of checking his wrist for a watch that doesn’t exist. “Let us go to bed,” he says, and Clint follows him.

Clint sleeps at the foot of the bed like a dog. He likes it, actually. Loves it, really. Loki gives him a small pillow and a blanket and Clint curls up at the end of the mattress. Sometimes, Loki will tuck his feet under Clint, and that’s really the best.

He thinks he likes it so much because it feels like the closest he can get to kneeling without actually doing it. It feels subservient. It feels good. Feels like he’s where he belongs. Part of him wants to offer to sleep on the floor, but he doesn’t want to mess up his back.

Loki usually wakes up first, but this time, Clint wakes up first. He stretches out, turns over on his other side to watch Loki sleep. He wants to kneel at the edge of the bed and beg for forgiveness and serve Loki until there is no breath left in his body. He doesn’t move, but he watches as Loki slowly comes into wakefulness, as he looks _young_ for a few moments before he comes back to himself and his mask shutters down and he’s suddenly someone else, someone that everyone else sees. But Clint gets to see the minutes in between, the moments where Loki is vulnerable, the moments where Loki doesn’t know anyone is looking at him. 

“There is some _kras_ in the kitchen for you,” Loki tells him, and his eyes are soft, and he reaches out one hand and Clint meets him in the middle, pushing his head into Loki’s fingers. His eyes slide shut as Loki pets his hair and scratches his scalp. 

“What are we doing today?” Clint asks in a muddled haze.

“Back to Midgard,” Loki tells him. “Do not worry. I will buy you an entire carriage’s worth of _kras_ before we leave.”

Clint nods, presses a kiss to Loki’s palm. The hearing spell on his ears is fading but he still manages to catch Loki’s aborted gasp. “Never worry when I’m with you,” he mumbles, and rolls over to rest his head on Loki’s thigh. Loki continues to scratch his hair and his eyes flutter shut. “What’re y’gonna do when y’get the Tesseract?”

“Run,” Loki tells him. “As far as it takes.”

“From what?”

“A monster,” is all Loki will say, and Clint long ago accepted his god for who he is, and will take what he can get. He doesn’t dare ask if he’ll be along for the ride; he’s not entirely sure he can deal with the answer if it’s negative. So he just pushes his head into Loki’s hand and breathes in his scent and enjoys what he’s allowed for the time it’s given to him.

Later, Clint gets out of bed and pads into the kitchen and gets a mouthful of _kras_ and sits on the kitchen floor and moans as he eats it. It tastes like what he imagines Loki’s skin tastes like. His dick gets so hard so fast that he feels faint for a minute, and he sits on his hands and swallows down the food and does deep breathing exercises until his erection flags. Then he gets Loki a mound of the _kras_ and watches avidly as Loki takes small bites and smiles after each one. 

Loki conjures up a glass of water and watches as Clint drinks all of it, then pats the bed next to him and Clint joins him again, sliding down the bed until his head is no higher than Loki’s torso. He rolls over so his cheek is up against Loki’s hip and Loki’s hand seems to naturally gravitate towards his hair. Clint smiles to himself.

Loki jostles him around so that Clint’s head is resting against his stomach, and then he pulls a book out of the ether and rests it on the top of Clint’s head. Clint shivers at being useful. He likes...he likes being useful. He likes being used. He thinks about being a footstool or a table and his entire body shudders with desire.

“Hush,” Loki murmurs to him, tugging at his hair. “Stop thinking.”

“Yes, sir,” he breathes, and sinks down into a space where he only exists as a thing that belongs to Loki, as something and not someone.

* * *

They go to a small compound where Clint holes up while Loki does some recon. They know the Tesseract is still on Earth. Thor never took it back to Asgard, which means SHIELD probably still has it. They never trusted Clint around it after he got his brains all scrambled. But he knew it was somewhere in one of the SHIELD safehouses or the compounds. Loki will find it, though, Clint’s sure of it.

Loki comes back late at night and joins Clint on the couch. Clint turns over and pushes his face into Loki’s stomach. “You’re cold,” he notes. “Where were you?”

“A place with snow,” Loki replies. “I was able to look into their computer system and see that the Tesseract is somewhere called the Moat.”

Clint groans and flips over onto his back. “Fuckin’ course it is,” he grumbles. “That’s SHIELD’s highest security base.”

“Can you break into it?”

“I mean, yeah, but I’d need help.” He’s not really thinking about anyone in particular—he and Loki can probably break into fuckin’ Fort Knox if they want—but Loki clearly has a different idea as the god stiffens and Clint looks up to see him frowning. 

“Would she take you?” 

“Would who? What?”

“The Widow,” Loki says stiffly. “If she assisted on the mission, would she take you from me?”

“I wouldn’t ask her for help,” Clint says slowly, sitting up and turning to look at Loki. “Nat wouldn’t help anyway.” That might not be entirely true, but while Nat always did enjoy a good thieving from the government, she almost definitely wouldn’t do it to help Loki get the Tesseract. “Why do you think I’d automatically jump to her? I really doubt there isn’t a way we can’t do this on our own.”

Loki narrows his eyes at him. Sometimes Clint feels the way a butterfly must feel before it’s pinned to a board and hung up on a wall. He shivers. It’s a good feeling. “She is not...your paramour?”

“Uh, no. Gross.” Clint frowns as he considers that assumption. Who the hell uses words like _paramour?_ “Wait, is that why you had me try to kill her? You were _jealous?_ ” Loki glowers at him and gets up and storms off in a huff. Clint laughs and gets up to follow him. “Also, you’re worried about someone taking me from you? Is that why you keep leaving me here? I can help, you know. Hell, you _do_ know. You watched me take out a whole Helicarrier by myself just because you asked.”

Loki is halfway into the bathroom when he turns around. He looks embarrassed and annoyed about being embarrassed. He’s lovely to look at. “Would you do it again?”

“The Helicarrier thing? I mean, sure, if you really needed it done. But isn’t helping you steal the Tesseract better than taking out a big flying ship?”

Loki considers that. He motions Clint closer and Clint goes to him like a moth to the flame. Loki’s long fingers brush over his neck and up over his face and then he cups Clint’s jaw like he’s something precious. It’s strange but Clint melts into his touch regardless. “Tell me what you know of this Moat.”

Clint follows him into the bathroom, sits against the side of the tub as Loki fills it up and slides into the warm water. It takes everything he has to not sneak a peek of Loki’s dick and he distracts himself with thinking about the Moat. “That’s where they put classified stuff, or things that are extremely dangerous and the public can never know about. Things like the Tesseract. I read a file on it once: double guard rotations, none of them have overlapping breaks, a bunch of security cameras, fingerprint and retina scanners, the whole nine yards. They have overlapping work shifts so there’s never a break in security. Snipers, infrared cameras, huge, concrete walls with barbed wire on top, you have to go through like three different gates just to get inside.” Clint considers it. “Shouldn’t be too bad, actually.”

“Good,” Loki says quietly as he thinks. “How will their security change now that you are no longer loyal to their cause?”

“Huh.” Clint scratches at his chin. “They were planning on forcibly retiring me after the whole New York thing, and I was part of their security team and task force for stuff like this. Not sure if they’d began the process of changing their systems yet. Sometimes it takes a lot longer than a year for the government to get around to something.”

Loki nods. “And your duties in this security team?”

“They’d send me and Nat in to find any holes in their security system, basically, and we’d do risk assessment.”

“How many of these holes did you leave behind?”

“Usually one or two. Nothing that anyone else would be able to find. But she might’ve told them about the ones we left at the Moat.”

“You surely know her well. Would she?”

“That depends,” Clint said slowly. “It depends on whether or not she knows the Tesseract is at the Moat, and whether or not she thinks we’re going to go after it.” He sighs. “It’s kind of like fighting against myself.”

“If your positions were reversed, would you say something?” Jealousy, angry and hot, immediately rises up in him and Clint shifts uncomfortably. Loki’s hand reaches languidly over the side of the tub and pats him on the top of the head. “It is merely a thought exercise, Agent Barton.”

“Not an agent anymore,” he mutters, and then sighs. “It just depends on whether or not she’s more loyal to me than she is to SHIELD. I think Nat knew what I was going to do when I volunteered myself, and she didn’t try to stop me. She didn’t approve, but she could’ve stopped me if she really wanted to. _Or,_ she was trying to give me a chance to back down and I didn’t take it, and now she feels like I betrayed her.”

“Which is it?” Loki asks, but Clint already knows the answer.

“She won’t say anything,” he finally says. “She’ll try and stop us if she’s there as security, but she won’t warn them.”

Loki pats his head again and sinks under the water for a few minutes and then stands up. Clint scrambles to his feet and gets Loki a towel and goes to wrap it around him, but Loki’s frown stops him. Instead, he gently pats Loki’s lovely pale skin dry, cheeks flushed, dick half hard in his pants. He helps Loki out of the bath and Loki clicks his fingers and it takes every ounce of Clint’s strength to not go to his knees and worship him. Instead, he brings Loki a robe and helps him into it, and then follows Loki back to his bedroom, where Loki lounges artfully over the bed, robe hanging open down to his navel, just far enough to make Clint’s mouth dry.

His knees shake as Loki pats the bed in front of him. “Sir,” he whispers, sliding onto the bed, nervously looking everywhere but at Loki. Clint wants to touch him more than he wants to take his next breath. Loki motions him closer, motions for him to lay on his back, legs straight out in front of him, feet hanging off the edge of the bed, hands at his sides.

Loki conjures up a small tray and rests it on Clint’s chest, then summons a glass of water and a small plate of various finger foods. He takes a sip and then rests the glass on the tray, as well as the plate. “If you spill these,” he tells Clint, “I will punish you.”

Clint whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut. There’s a small flutter and there’s a book in Loki’s hand, and he scoots up the bed a bit to rest the spine against the side of Clint’s head. Clint looks at him out of the corner of his eye and watches desperately as Loki raises up a hand and flicks his fingers.

The world goes silent. Clint wants to sob out his gratefulness, but he just tries to center himself and stay still. He’s absolutely as hard as a fucking rock and his erection doesn’t seem to have any signs of flagging, and he knows it must be pushing grotesquely out from his crotch. He thinks of Loki seeing that he’s hard and ignoring it and whimpers again.

A cool hand sets down on his arm and slowly, Loki’s long fingernails begin to press into his skin. He can’t see what Loki is doing because the book is in his way, but he can strain his eyes and see the edge of Loki’s hand, the way his nails cut into Clint’s skin, the way his skin is going white from the pressure, and Clint lets out a small gasp as he watches as his skin finally gives way and Loki’s nails cut into his flesh and he begins to bleed.

His dick could fucking cut glass. Absolutely no pressure or touch and he’s on the verge of shaking loose and heat flooding his system. 

“I’m going to come,” he whines. “Sir, _please._ ”

Loki’s hand leaves his arm and the pads of his fingers slip through Clint’s blood before disappearing. He hopes Loki isn’t telling him to do something because he can’t—

A heavy palm presses down onto his dick and Clint’s hips hike up without his input. He groans as the glass tips over and spills into his face. He can’t see anything because the book is still on his face and the tray is blocking his line of sight, but he can feel his zipper being pulled down and then those cool fingers slide into his underwear and wrap around his dick. It takes the second past Clint realizing its his own blood slicking Loki’s fingers before he’s coming, crying out Loki’s name on a sob, hips hiking up, come spurting into Loki’s hand.

He blinks and Loki’s hand is in front of his face, dripping with blood and Clint’s spend. He opens his mouth, greedy for it, and cleans Loki’s fingers for him, moaning as he finally tastes Loki’s skin. Then Loki’s fingers are pressing down on his tongue and exploring his mouth and brushing against his teeth and pushing at the back of his throat and Clint opens himself and thinks about the honor of sucking Loki’s dick and—

Loki is pinching his nose shut. The book moves and then Loki is bent over him, looking faintly amused. He has a glass of water in his free hand, and begins to pour it into Clint’s mouth. He drinks as much as he can but Loki pours it in a steady stream and soon enough, he takes in a breath and begins to cough and choke and gasp. Loki continues to pour and Clint can’t fucking _breathe_ and the water is never-ending and his eyes roll in the back of his head and then suddenly, his nose is open and his mouth is free and he gasps and coughs and looks up to see Loki watching him like a scientist watches a rat figure out a maze.

Then Loki closes his nose again and begins to pour. Clint chokes on the water immediately, feeling like his stomach is pushing all the other water back up, and his stomach heaves and his hips twist, but Loki’s hand is a metal vise on his head and he can’t get away. He coughs and chokes and gasps and looks up to see Loki looking at him intently. If this is what Loki wants, Clint will give it to him. He just—he doesn’t want to die.

The cycle repeats four more times, and by the last one, Clint’s vision is going dark. He wheezes on thin breaths, lungs tight, and his stomach rebels again. He coughs up thin mouthfuls of water and feels that the sheets and blankets beneath him are sodden. Loki moves, going up to his knees next to Clint, and he opens his robe, revealing a cock that looks like everything Clint has ever dreamt about.

Loki masturbates quickly, efficiently, like it’s something he does just to satiate the urge, not to take pleasure in it. He plays his body like a fiddle. Clint eagerly takes it in, salivating at the thought of having Loki’s cock in his mouth, and gasps as Loki’s hips twist and he begins to come. The first spurt lands on Clint’s face, and the next in his hair, and then the last on the bed next to him. Loki strokes himself a few more times, eyes rolling in the back of his head at the over stimulation, and then drops his hand, breathing heavily.

Clint feels like the most holy of disciples as Loki’s come lands on his face.

Then he reaches forward and pushes Clint’s face into the bed spread, one finger scooping up a bit of come and sliding it over Clint’s lips. The message is clear: _clean it up._

He moans and desperately licks all he can reach, rubbing his face into the comforter, and when Loki lifts up the tray that’s somehow still balanced precariously on Clint’s chest, he flips over and pushes his face into the faint traces of Loki’s come. He sucks it all down, gripping threads between his teeth to suck Loki’s come from them, and when he’s finally finished, he sags onto his side and looks up at Loki.

Loki’s expression is unreadable, but he hasn’t left. His robe is still open and Clint can see his softening cock on his thigh. Loki settles against the pillows at the head of the bed and picks up his book again. He pats his thigh and Clint scoots over, curling up around Loki’s legs and sighing in relief as Loki picks up his book and rests it on his head again.

He closes his eyes and floats in the security of being in his god’s service again. He scoots closer, gets more comfortable, and nuzzles up against the soft length of Loki’s dick, nose buried in the soft, sparse curls at the base. He feels Loki’s thighs tense but when he doesn’t do anything else, Loki relaxes, and one hand comes down to gently stroke Clint’s hair.

When Clint was younger, even before SHIELD, before he ever picked up a bow, he sat in a church and wondered about God. Something deep in his gut always told him that there was _something_ out there, something to kneel to, something to worship, but it wasn’t God, not for him. He hadn’t known what it was yet, not then, but now he does.

He will spend the rest of his life on his knees and he will worship Loki as he deserves. He realizes now that it is his purpose, that everything in his life led him here. He has no other reason to live.

When Loki had touched the Scepter to his chest— _You have heart_ —something had finally clicked into place. He had looked up at Loki, through the swarm of the mind control and the brainwashing, and he had _known him._

He breathes Loki in and he prays.

It wasn’t like this when he was under control of the Scepter. They’d been too busy, too rushed, for Clint to even think about going to his knees. It hadn’t been until after, until Nat had hit him in the head and he’d talked to SHIELD therapists and psychologists and psychiatrists and threat assessors and security agents and Fury, that he’d realized what he _really_ wanted, what he’d missed out on. He’d spent every day for a year wishing he’d had the semblance of self enough to go to his knees in front of Loki and press his face to his boots and worshipped him like he should have. The grief of thinking that he’d maybe never get that chance had been too much.

But he’s here now, and he’s where he belongs.

In the morning, Clint makes Loki breakfast and then kneels in front of him and Loki rests his plate on the top of Clint’s head while he eats. After that, Loki feeds him a potion that restores probably half of his hearing, and Loki tells him it’s permanent. There’s little to be done to fully heal him, but Clint will take what he can get. After all, he has Loki. He doesn’t need anything else.


	2. part two

The mission to retrieve the Tesseract is easy. Loki tosses an invisibility spell over the both of them and distracts the guards while Clint moves in and finds the security holes in the system and gets them into the inner holding cells of the Moat. Loki spreads out his magic and then leads them straight to the Tesseract.

Clint glances around, slinging his bow over his back, stepping up to Loki’s side as Loki forcibly breaks apart the specially made case that keeps the Tesseract secure. He tosses the reinforced metal carelessly off to the side and holds the Tesseract up, smiling slightly. Clint smiles as he watches him.

There is a moment in between Loki lowering the Tesseract and turning to look at Clint that Clint realizes this might be it. Loki might leave him. After all, he accomplished his goal. He has the Tesseract. What need does he have of Clint?

He doesn’t know if he would survive being left behind. He won’t tell Loki that; he can’t be brought along out of some sense of obligation for his life, if Loki even has obligation for lives other than his own. That would be worse than being left behind. But Clint looks up at his god and he thinks that if Loki leaves him, he’ll kill himself before SHIELD can find him again.

Loki holds out a hand, palm up. Clint does not hesitate at all to take it. Loki’s long fingers wrap confidently and surely around his, and Clint holds on tight. Loki activates the Tesseract and they disappear into the ether as the door slams open and SHIELD agents flood in.

* * *

They spend the next two years running. Clint spends more time on his knees than he does on his feet, and he kills more aliens than he has a number for. Loki has a reputation throughout the galaxy, especially now that he betrayed Thanos, and he has a hefty bounty on his head. They don’t spend any longer than a month on any planet. They hear rumor of Thanos and Loki eventually ends up telling Clint what he did, how he suffered, how Thanos tortured him beyond pain, beyond ruin, and Clint weeps for him.

Clint tells Loki, in small, short bursts and dragging it out over time, about his childhood, about the circus, about his good-for-nothing brother and how SHIELD recruited him and how he spent so much of his life looking for _something_ and only realizing what that something was once he found Loki. He tells Loki everything he can think of. He has no reason for secrets. It’s not even about worth or trust; he just can’t think of any reason why he wouldn’t tell Loki everything. 

Clint has enjoyed every minute of it. Loki needs someone who puts him above everything else, and Clint is beyond happy to give it. He will spend the rest of his life worshipping Loki’s every step if that’s what Loki needs from him.

They’re moving from a small hut on a desert planet when Loki freezes and Clint’s bow is already in his hand when the door slams open. Thor stands in front of them, cape billowing out behind him, Mjolnir in his hand, the half-dozen suns of the planet shining behind him.

The Tesseract is on the other side of the room where Clint had been cleaning and polishing all of Loki’s armor. Clint moves towards it but Thor growls out his name. Clint nocks an arrow and aims it in between the thunder god’s eyes.

“Thor,” Loki greets, his tone almost pleasant. “We were just leaving.”

“You are going nowhere,” Thor booms out. “I have come for you.”

Loki’s hands twitch and Clint moves in front of him. He’s had to risk his life plenty of times for Loki in the past two years. He’ll happily do it again. If Thor is anything like all of the other aliens Clint has met, he dismisses humans as being weak and insignificant. Clint has taken absolute genuine pleasure in proving them all wrong.

“Oh?” is all Loki says. He brushes a hand against the small of Clint’s back, just the lightest touch, and taps him twice, and Clint’s hand tightens on his bow. That’s their signal for fire at will. Thor takes a step further into the hut.

“I wouldn’t,” Clint warns.

Blue eyes turn to him. “Do you not wish to return to Earth?” Thor asks him, almost eagerly. “Your friends miss you. They need your help.”

“That’s why he’s here?” Clint scoffs to Loki. “Try to guilt me into going home? I’m not going fucking anywhere.”

Thor sighs and looks back to Loki. “Amora comes to Earth. We need your help.”

Loki scoffs. “A sorceress such as Amora is such a threat to the King of Asgard?” A dagger appears in his hand and he fingers the blade. Clint shifts his weight.

Thor frowns at him. He looks tired; his hair is shorn, his armor is dirty, and he looks haggard, like he’s been fighting a long war. They had heard of Odin’s death soon after they fled Earth, but Loki had not even entertained the idea of going to his funeral. That means Thor is King. They both wonder what Asgard looks like now, if it’s still even standing. “You are still of Asgard,” Thor finally says. “And I am still your King. I order you to come with.”

Clint twitches and lets an arrow loose. Thor reacts immediately, swinging Mjolnir at the arrow, but he’s just a hair of a second too slow, and the tip explodes right next to Thor’s face. Thor lets out a roar and Clint and Loki spin together, Loki clicking his fingers, his armor appearing on his body, Tesseract zooming across the room to land in his fingers, and all of their belongings vanish into one of Loki’s pocket dimensions. Clint is reaching for Loki’s hand when Thor snarls, “Heimdall _sees_ you, Loki. He watches. You cannot run from him.”

Loki freezes, turns to look down at Clint with a soft frown. “I shielded myself from him.”

“The Tesseract is powerful, Loki,” Thor tells him. “Using it chipped away at your personal wards until Heimdall was able to see through them.” Loki blanches, brings up a hand and brushes it over his face. “Again, I ask you to come to Earth.”

“We’ll be left alone afterwards?” Clint asks, keeping his eyes on Loki.

Thor sighs. “If you help us defeat Amora, I will absolve you of all crimes. You will be reintroduced to Asgard’s royal line and be reinstated as Prince. If you so wish.”

Loki looks nauseous. “Is there any other option?” he asks Clint, voice barely more than a breath, and Clint glances over his shoulder at Thor before sighing.

“Either we keep running,” Clint starts, “or we fight. If we run, we’ll have to fight eventually.”

Loki sends the Tesseract into the ether and lifts his chin. He sets a long-fingered hand on Clint’s shoulder. “No one touches him,” he warns Thor. Thor looks vaguely confused but nods slowly.

“You will come, then?” Thor asks eagerly, taking a step closer, and it’s instinct that has Clint aiming another arrow at him.

Loki pushes on Clint’s shoulder and he lowers his bow. “Heimdall,” Loki calls. “Take us to Midgard.”

It’s the first time in two years that Heimdall answers him. The Bifrost opens around them and a few seconds later, Clint is staggering out onto a field, spitting out sour spittle, world spinning around him. Loki catches his hand and holds onto him until he manages to straighten up. Clint hooks an arm around Loki’s waist as catches his breath and looks around the field they’ve landed in. They’re outside a huge building that has a huge A on the side.

“No SHIELD headquarters?” Clint asks himself, but Thor answers him. One of them is eventually going to have to tell him that Loki doesn’t let anyone talk to Clint. 

“I believe there is not more SHIELD,” Thor says remorsefully. “I do not know the full story, but something happened with a monster called a HYDRA.”

Clint blinks. Huh. He hadn’t been expecting that, but he can bet he knows what happened. He turns to look around the vast field and the forests beyond and then up to the sky, where Iron Man is descending upon them. Loki moves bodily in front of him as Iron Man touches down.

His face mask lifts up as Loki says what Clint was thinking, “It seems your suits have seen some upgrades, Stark.”

“And you’re still as green and greasy as ever.” Iron Man moves forward to try to see Clint. “And you still have Hawkeye? Guess I lost that bet. I bet you would’ve killed him within the first week.” He shakes his head. “Still can’t believe you did that, by the way, Barton.”

Loki bares his teeth. “Thor, what is the purpose of this?”

“Should we go into the Facility?” Thor asks Stark, which is strange to see. Stark nods. 

Clint catches Loki’s hand. “Trap,” he mutters to him, well aware both Stark and Thor can probably hear him. Like how Loki won’t let anyone talk to Clint, he’s not allowed to talk to anyone else either. He can make plenty of snide comments _at_ them, but not to them. It’s a distinction that only Loki would care to make, really. Clint, of course, is happy to oblige. “Need a guarantee it’s not a trap.”

Loki nods as Stark calls over, “You know I can hear you, right?”

“Then you know what needs to be done,” Loki replies simply yet firmly. “Guarantee to me that this is not a scheme to imprison me or take Clint. What is your proof?”

“Heimdall first caught sight of you a year ago,” Thor interrupts tiredly. “He notified me immediately and I decided to allow you to remain free. You have caused no destruction or chaos during the past two years. Heimdall believes you are merely looking for a place to live.”

Loki cuts his eyes away and Clint leans around him to glare at Thor. “That is still no guarantee,” Loki says finally, pushing his shoulders back and fully facing Thor again. “Why would Stark, a man who despises me, ask me for help?”

Stark’s suit whirs quietly as he moves. “You’re the only one who’s faced Amora and won,” Stark says, and there’s something haunted in his voice. “We need to know everything you know about her so we have a fucking chance at killing her.”

Loki and Clint exchange glances. Clint doesn’t really have an opinion unless Loki asks him for one; it’s not his place. He just does what he’s told. He’s good at that.

Loki searches his face and gently brings up a hand to pet the skin of Clint’s throat and jaw, up to the tender skin under his eyes. Clint’s eyes flutter shut and he leans into Loki’s hand. His knees tremble. He’s not meant to spend this long on his feet; he’s meant to be prostrate in front of Loki, praying at the shrine of his god.

“If this is a trap,” Loki finally says, not looking away from Clint, “then I will personally kill each and every last one of you.” He turns to glare pointedly at Thor. “Ask Heimdall if you doubt my sincerity.”

Thor just nods. He hefts Mjolnir. “Do not doubt me, brother,” he says. “I will not let them harm you.”

Clint isn’t reassured, but he shadows behind Loki and Stark and Thor lead them inside the Avengers Facility. Stark explains about what happened to the Tower. Clint is surprised by how little he cares. Stark also keeps trying to engage Clint in conversation, but he hasn’t talked to another person in a year and a half and doesn’t intend to start again now. 

They decide to show Loki and Clint to their rooms first. Stark does something with the Iron Man suit that makes it fold up and disappear, and then he walks them across the entire compound to the living quarters. Their rooms are right next to Thor’s, of course, but Loki pretends not to care. Stark uncomfortably asks if Clint needs his own rooms, but Loki’s amused snort answered that one for him. 

Stark tells them they’ll come get them over dinner. Loki inclines his head and shuts the door in his face. His hands are shaking and Clint knows what he needs. He checks the apartment for cameras and after destroying the ones he finds, goes to his knees and opens his mouth. 

Loki pulls his dick out and holds it in his hand, and the acrid, strong scent of piss hits Clint a moment before the actual liquid does. Loki is a god and he pisses like one: powerful, strong, unending. Clint swallows down as much as he can, swirling the distinctive flavor over his tongue, and then closes his eyes when Loki moves to spray his face. 

It’s an ownership thing. It’s probably the most primal way Loki can express it. He marks Clint up, makes sure that anyone who sees him or smells him knows that he’s property, that he’s _owned_. Loki has pissed all over him and inside him more times than Clint can count, but it’s pissing over Clint’s face and chest that gets him going the hardest. 

The last few spurts get in his hair and Clint blinks urine out of his eyes as he opens them and looks up at Loki, who is looking slightly less desperate and on-edge. Loki presses the tip of his cock to Clint’s mouth and he obediently opens and sucks him down, gently bringing his dick to full hardness. He’s good at this. It’s comfortable. He likes knowing exactly what Loki likes, likes knowing that he can take his time or drive Loki crazy, likes knowing that he’s being of service. 

Loki seats himself fully in Clint’s mouth and lets out a relieved sigh. Clint lets himself hang open and stays wet and useful; when Loki gets like this, he needs Clint to stay passive and welcoming and not try to involve himself in the situation at all. He needs to use Clint and take control back when he feels like he’s lost it. Loki wraps his hands around the back of Clint’s head and Clint sags in his grasp, eyes rolling in the back of his head as Loki’s cock slides down his throat.

Loki thrusts in shallowly a few times before pulling out and threading one hand through Clint’s hair and using the other to rub his cock over Clint’s face. Clint nuzzles the soft skin between the base of Loki’s dick and his balls, then briefly sucks on them, reveling in Loki’s short, pleased grunt. Then Loki pries open his mouth and stuffs him full, squeezing Clint’s nose shut until he begins to panic and struggle, but Loki is a vise grip, pinning him down while his throat constricts and his eyes roll back in his head and his lungs burn.

Clint whimpers as Loki shoots down his throat, hot shoots of come flooding his throat. Loki shivers and then gives a satisfied grunt as he lets Clint breathe again, slowly pulling out of his mouth. Clint takes in a few heaving gasps and coughs and then licks the semen and spit off Loki’s cock, looking up at him adoringly. Loki strokes his hair as the aftershocks finally cease and then he pulls away, tucking himself back into his breeches. Loki glances around the room and then goes over to the small couch, clicking his fingers. Clint crawls after him, staying on his knees at Loki’s feet, but he leans up into Loki’s lap.

“You know there are still cameras, yes?” Loki asks, his voice just loud enough that Clint can barely hear him. 

“Yeah, figured they’d be watching,” Clint replies with a smirk. “Give ‘em somethin’ to talk about.”

Loki smiles at that. Clint knows exactly what he’s thinking about; a while ago, they spent a month on a sex planet where Clint spent the entire time in a haze. Loki had thoroughly enjoyed showing him off and how well he was trained, and Clint had loved being so well cared for. His best memory of that planet had been Loki bending him over the back of a couch and slid ropes under the bottom of the couch so his hands were tied to his feet, and then Loki had spent the entire afternoon giving lecturing to the avidly watching aliens about rimming and edging. He’d finally sunk his cock into Clint’s ass after nearly 20 hours, and Clint had come like a freight train.

All he wanted in life was to worship, however that looked, however Loki wanted it.

Loki traces Clint’s lips with his fingers and Clint opens his mouth, resting his cheek on Loki’s thigh as Loki slips his fingers in. He suckles gently as Loki explores his mouth, eyes fluttering shut in satisfaction.

“Do you know what to expect?” Loki asks him. Clint just shakes his head. Loki’s fingers slide out of his mouth. He lets out a frustrated whimper and looks up at Loki. “Focus, you little slut. Think of an answer for me.”

Clint shivers but nods. Loki pinches his cheek to help him focus. “They’re going to want to talk to me,” he finally sighs out. “They haven’t seen me in two years.”

Loki looks annoyed, which is better than what Clint was expecting. “They should know better,” Loki grumbles. “You belong to me.”

“I do,” Clint affirms easily. “I also want to know how they know about Amora.”

Loki considers that. “Humans are remarkably dull,” he notes, tapping at his chin, “and they are rather technologically unadvanced. I would suppose they only heard about her recently.” His hand tightens in Clint’s hair. “Perhaps Thor informed them, or perhaps she has already come to Earth.”

Clint shrugs. “You just tell me what to do,” he finally decides, and yawns, nuzzling back down to Loki’s crotch. “I don’t care how they got here or why. I just care that after this, we’ll be left alone.”

That’s all he wants. Loki nods and lets Clint curl up with him for a few more minutes before he pushes Clint fully down to the floor. Clint takes in a deep breath and goes up to his hands and knees and Loki kicks his feet up onto his back. Loki changes his boots into high heels so they’re digging into his skin and Clint moans, head hanging down. Loki conjures up a book and reads for awhile.

Then, as Clint’s arms begin to shake, Loki moves one of his legs, and a heeled foot sets down in front of his face. “Pity my nice shoes get so dirty,” Loki muses, trying not to sound breathless. “If only there was someone here who could clean them.”

Usually Clint will play along, but he’s on edge, so he goes down to his elbows and begins to lick. The shoes are patent leather and they taste good against the familiar taste of Loki’s skin. He kisses along the edge, along the fine bones and tendons of Loki’s foot, noses underneath and licks up the length of the heel and along the bottom of the shoe. Loki moves his other foot to the top of Clint’s head and pushes down until Clint is prone on the floor, one heel on his head and trying to lick clean the other.

There’s some faint movement and Loki leans forward to lift his heel and pushes a small bit of _kras_ underneath it, crushing it and stepping on it. Clint moans at seeing it and pushes his face forward, spit sliding down his chin, and he licks the food off the bottom of Loki’s shoe. Loki crushes his face with his other shoe and Clint whimpers.

Someone knocks at the door and they both freeze. Sometimes they get so lost in themselves they forget other people exist. Loki leaves Clint on the floor as he stalks over to the door and slams it open.

“Clint?” he hears Natasha say. “I’m here to get him for dinner.”

Loki hums. “He is currently indisposed, but if you could direct me to the eatery, we will soon make our way there.”

“I’ll wait,” Natasha decides, and Loki shuts the door in her face.

“Get up,” Loki orders, and when Clint can’t seem to move right away, Loki moves around the couch and pulls him to his feet. He’s kept the heels on so he towers even more over Clint, who shivers. “Go start the shower and put it on cold. Stand under it until your mind is clear enough to function and then change the temperature to warm and finish cleaning yourself. Do you require further instruction?”

Clint blinks a few times and then shakes his head. Loki is calmly looking at him, waiting for him to figure himself out, and then he brushes a thumb over Clint’s lips and then kisses him. Clint smiles at him and makes his way to the bathroom, quickly following Loki’s directions.

He gets out of the shower a few minutes later, feeling more like himself, and quickly rubs himself down with a towel. He wraps the towel around his waist and opens the bathroom door and freezes.

Natasha is leaning against the back of the couch, arms crossed over her chest, staring at the door Clint just opened. She looks at him and then horror slowly dawns on his face.

Clint winces. He knows what he looks like. He likes it but he knows what it looks like to others. Loki has a biting fetish—he has a lot of fetishes, not like Clint is complaining—and Clint’s torso is completely wrecked. He’s covered in bite marks, some of them new and still bright red, some of them even bleeding a little, to old, scarred over ones. His back and biceps are particularly bad, scarred over and deeply with clear teeth marks.

Loki makes a surprised sound and comes out of the bedroom, standing in front of Clint, glaring at Natasha. “It is very rude to come into someone’s home uninvited,” Loki says stiffly. “Get to the bedroom.”

Clint slips from behind him and darts to the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. There’s clothes laid out on the bed for him and he dresses quickly, pushing his feet into boots and picking his bow and quiver up from the table by the door. He joins Loki and Natasha in the living room, going immediately to his place at Loki’s side.

Natasha looks furious. Clint moves a step forward so that he’s half in front of Loki, and she knows exactly what that means. She glares at Loki and then jerks her chin towards the door. “This way,” she snips, and they follow her out of their room and down a hall and up some stairs and down more halls and then they’re in a cafeteria. 

Clint looks around and snorts. “Looks better than that place on Alija,” he tells Loki, who raises an eyebrow at him and then chuckles. Natasha leads them to a buffet and Loki motions for Clint to go sit at an empty table while Loki gets himself some food.

Cap, Banner, and a few other people Clint doesn’t recognize all join Clint. He shifts uncomfortably as they all start talking over each other. They’re asking him where he’s been, what he’s been doing, what kind of clothes he’s wearing, if Loki is as mean as they think, and on and on and on. It’s exhausting. He hasn’t been around this many people or aliens since the sex planet, and he was barely aware of everyone around them then.

He slumps in relief as Loki steps up behind him, one long, cool hand resting gently on the back of his neck. Loki hands him a small mound of _kras_ and Clint nibbles on it as Loki glares everyone into moving over a seat, giving them a bit of breathing room. Loki sits next to him and picks at his food.

“Are you hungry?” Cap asks him.

“Yes,” Loki replies shortly. “That is why I am attempting to eat...whatever this is.”

“I meant Clint,” Cap says slowly, sounding confused.

“It’s a burrito,” Clint tells Loki, taking a mouthful of the _kras_ and chewing slowly, savoring it, as he picks up a knife and fork and begins cutting Loki’s food up for him. “Like the rolled up meals on Pocoat.”

“Ah,” Loki murmurs, and he takes a bite and then grimaces. “ _Burrito_ ,” he grumbles disdainfully, but eats a few more bites. Clint motions at Loki’s glass of water and Loki nods. Usually Loki would hold the glass to his mouth for him—given that he’s usually tied up or otherwise unable to hold a glass himself—but even Loki is a bit uncomfortable, so Clint drinks it himself. 

Stark comes over, looking like he just saw a ghost, and Loki and Clint exchange sly grins. The various Avengers around them are talking, but Clint tunes them out. He doesn’t have any obligation to any of these humans. He hasn’t had any obligation to anyone besides Loki in two years and he doesn’t intend on that changing anytime soon or ever. 

He finishes his _kras_ and leans against Loki’s side, daydreaming about what Loki’s going to do to him when they get back to their rooms. Loki’s had a bit of a foot thing lately, what with him having Clint lick his shoes and stepping on him and all that. Loki usually has a specific urge he needs to satisfy and cycles through a few different fetishes before he lands on the right one, which he then fixates on for however long it takes for the need to settle. Sometimes it’s just a day, sometimes it’s a week or a month or six months. Clint enjoys all of it. There hasn’t been anything Loki has done to him that he hasn’t been wholeheartedly into. He’s not even sure that Loki could come up with something he wouldn’t be into.

Loki elbows Clint in the side and his head jerks up. He glances around the table to see everyone looking at him and he resists the urge to shy away. All the other planets, the folks there had understood that Clint wasn’t to be acknowledged. He’d gotten used to being ignored and it’s weird to have people looking at him. His instinct is to kneel beneath the table so none of them can see him, but that’d probably raise more questions and attract more attention. 

“What?” he says to Loki. “Finish your food. You’re too skinny as it is.”

Loki pinches him but takes a few more bites. Then he turns to look across the table at the Avengers. “I am still rather unclear on my purpose here,” he finally says, handing Clint his water before Clint has a chance to ask for it. 

“We need help,” Cap grits out. “Thor thinks you’re that help.” 

Loki considers that. “Is that so,” he replies mildly. “I believe I need access to all the information you have before I can make my assessment.”

Stark and Cap exchange glances that look significant. Stark stands up. “Follow me,” he tells Loki, who raises his eyebrows but slowly pushes to his feet, and then takes an inordinate amount of time pulling Clint up and adjusting his clothes for him. They follow Stark, Cap, Banner, and the other Avengers Clint still doesn’t know, to a conference room on the other side of the building.

The door opens and Clint walks in. He freezes. “Barnes,” he says slowly, without really registering it.

Barnes is sitting at the table, reading a book. He’s missing his left arm; Clint vaguely remembers something about his arm being a prosthetic, so maybe he had it removed. He looks tired. He looks up at them and gives Clint a wan smile.

Loki follows him into the room and sets a hand on the back of Clint’s neck and moves him closer to the table. “Soldier,” Loki greets, rather pleasantly for once.

Barnes’s shoulders sink and he gives Loki a strange look. “Sir,” he replies. “You here about Amora?”

Loki nods and directs Clint to the seat directly across from Barnes. Clint sits and Loki towers behind him as everyone filters in and takes their seats. Cap sits next to Barnes, who looks uncomfortable.

“He isn’t called that anymore,” Cap says, annoyed.

“Pardon?”

“Soldier,” Cap bites out. “Bucky isn’t called that anymore.”

“Oh?” Loki questions, turning his attention to Barnes, who just sighs and shakes his head, which isn’t an answer. “Is that truly why I am here, Captain?”

“No,” Cap says. “We need your help.”

Loki smiles at that, but it drops from his face as Thor comes in. His hand tightens on Clint’s neck as Thor sits at one of the free chairs near him. “We have fought Amora many times,” Thor begins, “and she has only ever been defeated, not killed. I have only ever defeated her with Loki’s assistance.”

Loki smirks. “Have you fought her already?”

“Aye,” Thor sighs. Stark pushes a button and a video begins of their last battle with her. Clint and Loki both watch it in shock. Amora is a fierce opponent, to be certain, but she is not _this_ fierce. Clint knows of her from Loki’s stories, and this is...this is unreasonable. No wonder they have not been able to defeat her. “As you can see, she is very strong.”

“This is...more than she is capable of,” Loki says slowly, summoning the remote and rewinding to watch the scene of Amora cutting a bystander in half and then sending both halves of the human to hit Captain America off the side of a building. “Amora is powerful, yes, but she should not be capable of these feats.” He points to the staff Amora is carrying. “She has never wielded this weapon before.”

Thor sighs. “Looks like Lorelei’s staff,” he mutters.

Loki turns to look at Clint, who shrugs. “We saw Lorelei, what, eight months ago? I didn’t see a staff on her.”

“When did you see Lorelei?” Thor demands. He leans closer to Clint but Loki puts a hand up.

“Who’s Lorelei?” Stark asks. “Weird name.”

“Amora’s sister,” Loki bites out, still warily watching Thor. “She was a fierce warrior of Asgard until she was banished.”

“You think they joined up?”

“I think nothing,” Loki replied shortly, glancing at Stark. “I do not know enough about this situation. When we saw Lorelei, we were passing through—”

“T-58,” Clint offers up.

“Yes, T-58. We were there for only a few days. We met her at their bar.” Loki smirks and Clint flushes, rubbing the back of his neck. Thor looks between them with wide eyes. “She did look a little downtrodden, didn’t she?”

“I mean, I _was_ kinda distracted at the time,” Clint muses with a grin, “but I don’t remember her looking _great._ ”

“I will ask Heimdall,” Thor decides. “He will be able to find her, and we will bring her in for questioning.”

“Hold on,” one of the strangers speaks up. “You want to bring _another_ alien here?”

“She is not an alien,” Thor says, holding up one huge hand. “No more than you are an alien. But at the very least, we can see if she knows of the staff her sister carries and to see if she will help us.” He looks to Loki, who shrugs. “This is Amora,” Thor says firmly. “As you already know, she is not an easy opponent. Loki, do you have any suggestions?”

Loki sighs, leans against the back of Clint’s chair and idly slides his fingers into his hair, tugs a bit at him. “Last time it took a dragon, did it not? And we had to push her off the realm. I have also caught her within a time field—”

“Do you need a time wizard?” Stark interrupts. “We have one of those.”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “A _time wizard?_ ”

“They have a sorcerer who wields the Time Stone,” Thor explains.

Loki exchanges a glance with Clint. They haven’t met anyone else who has an Infinity Stone. Clint smiles. He looks forward to it. Loki cuffs him on the back of the head and then looks down the table at the gathered Avengers. His gaze lingers on Barnes. “I believe our best bet will be to begin with _why_ Amora has come here. Do any of you know?”

Clint looks at Thor, who looks guilty. Loki follows his gaze and narrows his eyes at Thor, who gives him a sheepish grin.

“Do you have a paramour, brother?”

“Aye,” Thor sighs. “Amora seems to have learned of this and is displeased.”

“Well? Where is she?”

It’s Clint who figures it out first. He laughs. Loki spins on him and glares down at him. “It’s Barnes,” Clint tells him cheekily. “Runs in the family, eh?”

“Impertinent little brat,” Loki mutters, and then looks at Barnes. “I’d assumed you were interested in the Captain,” he remarks. Barnes grimaces and Cap looks vaguely horrified.

“No,” Barnes snorts. “We’re not each others type.”

Loki looks pointedly between Thor and Cap but then shrugs. “That is not important,” he decides. “I am more interested in how Amora even learned of your new beau.”

“Can you stop saying weird shit like that?” Stark asks. Clint thinks he’s trying to be playful but Loki doesn’t do playful very well, especially not in a situation like this.

Loki stiffens. His mouth thins and his fingers tighten on the back of Clint’s neck. “I was brought in because you lot of plebians cannot band together enough to defeat a relatively simple opponent such as Amora. There are, what, twelve of you? And you even have a Stonekeeper?” He turns on Thor. “You have the might of Asgard behind you, yet you sought out the company of an exiled prisoner who was nearly put to death by the prior King. I will kill this enchantress for you and then you will fight the rest of your battles yourself.” His hand leaves Clint’s neck and Clint stands up. Loki bares his teeth at the silent Avengers. Across the table, a few seats away from Barnes, Natasha stands up as well. “Barnes, come with us.”

Barnes nods and ignores both Thor and Cap calling after him as he follows Clint and Loki out of the room. They go back to their quarters, where Clint quickly changes out of his clothes and into more comfortable sweats, and kneels at Loki’s feet after Loki sits on the couch. Barnes barely seems to notice as he sits in one of the armchairs near the couch. He rubs at his shoulder where the arm is missing.

“How have you been?” Loki asks, and he actually sounds kind. Clint hears a small noise and looks up to see Natasha hovering in the open doorway from the hall to their rooms, but Loki pays her no mind as he pets Clint’s hair. Clint glances at Natasha one more time and then leans against Loki’s thigh and closes his eyes.

“Alright,” Barnes says, but he doesn’t sound it. Loki makes a disbelieving sound and Barnes sighs. “It’s been...rough, sir. Thor has been good for me.”

“How did that happen?”

Clint can hear the smile in his voice when Barnes says, “He started coming around after you took Barton. He wanted to know how you found me, what you were doing with me, all that. That was after SHIELD released me after they determined I wasn’t a threat. But once I answered all his questions he...still kept coming around. Started bringing me food, drinks, flowers, potions, books, all this stuff. He, uh, invited me to his coronation.”

“Oh?” Loki is impressed, Clint can tell. “That is...that is a very big step. He must have grand feelings for you.”

“So he says,” Barnes says, but he’s smiling. “Is this what it’s like for him? Be in love with a god?”

“Clint?” Loki questions, and Clint blinks at him a few times, trying to clear his head.

“You know what it’s like for me,” Clint says with a slow smile. “Didn’t think you would want to think about your brother like that, though.”

“I believe Thor’s prolictivies are dissimilar to mine,” Loki replies, gently running his fingers over Clint’s face. He looks up to see Barnes watching them with a soft, fond smile. “I am glad you have found peace, Soldier. You look well.”

“Why do you call him that?” Nat calls from the doorway.

“When I rescued him from HYDRA’s chains, I asked him his name,” Loki replies easily, voice pleasant. “He—”

“How did you find him?” Nat interrupts. “He’s never told any of us.”

“I was looking for Clint,” Loki bites out. “I escaped from Asgard and only wanted one thing, and went in search for him.”

“Aw,” Clint says cheekily. Loki pinches him.

“I knew of secret bases from what I had found in SHIELD’s computers. I realize now that they were actually HYDRA bases, yes?” Clint nods. “So I went through them. I found nothing of interest except for a human man locked into a peculiar container. So I took him, and when he woke up, I asked him his name.”

Clint risks it and looks over at Nat. She looks beyond horrified. “We all thought you...searched him out to use him against Steve.”

Loki rolls his eyes. “You lot always think you’re always so important to your betters,” he remarks, a bit more acidly than Clint really thinks is necessary. But it’s not like it’s Clint’s place to care, so he puts it out of his mind and closes his eyes again. “I did not realize his identity until later when he began to regain his memory.”

“And then you realized how you could use him,” Natasha finishes.

Loki shrugs. “I was given a hand to play. Is it my fault I played it?”

“I agreed to it,” Barnes offers up. Clint doesn’t even have to have his eyes open to know that Natasha wouldn’t like it. “Loki talked to me, told me what he wanted, and I said I would help. Don’t think there’s really anything else to this, Romanoff.”

“Clint,” Nat barks. Clint just sighs. “You really want this?”

“You can answer,” Loki murmurs to him, stroking over his hair.

“If I didn’t,” Clint replies, “I wouldn’t be here. Loki doesn’t do a thing to me I don’t want.”

With that, Natasha leaves. Clint doesn’t blame her. He settles back down and then slides down so he’s fully on the floor, one of his cheeks resting on the top of Loki’s foot. He wraps his hand around the heel of Loki’s shoe and shuts his eyes. Over him, Loki and Barnes talk for awhile, voices soft as they catch up with each other. They talk about the various planets and realms Loki has visited, what Barnes thinks of Asgard, more about Barnes’s relationship with Thor. Clint lets it all fade out. He slowly falls asleep as Loki presses his other foot to the top of his head, pushing the heel of his shoe into Clint’s cheek.

He wakes up awhile later as Loki pries open his mouth, sliding a piece of rope in between his teeth. He tries to move but his hands and feet are tied behind him, and when he strains against them, he can feel that they’re tied together. His muscles are already begin to burn and he sags into it, moaning as Loki ties his head back so his throat is stretched.

“Hush,” Loki murmurs, pressing a kiss to his forehead, then to his cheek, then to the hollow at the bottom of his throat. “Last time, you were able to stay like this for six hours. Would you like to push that? All night, perhaps?” Clint moans and tries to nod, but he can’t move his head. He peers up at Loki, who briefly kisses him before easily lifting him and carrying him to the bedroom. Loki set up a small blanket nest at the bottom of the bed and settles Clint into it, making sure he’s comfortable before climbing into bed himself.

Loki pulls down his pants, grabs some lube, and slicks himself up. Clint moans as he watches Loki masturbate, long fingers stroking up and down his lovely cock, going with long and slow strokes, twisting around the head and then back down. “Do you like this?” Loki asks breathlessly. Clint moans around the rope in his mouth, digging his teeth in. “Do you enjoy watching your god take pleasure in himself when you can do nothing?”

Loki’s eyes slide down, catching on the ropes around Clint’s chest and torso, down over his own hard cock, the stretch of his thighs. Clint whines, saliva slipping down his chin and his cheek. It pools under his head and he whimpers. He wants to serve, wants to be of use, wants to worship, but all he can do is watch as Loki pleasures himself.

“You’re being good,” Loki tells him, and Clint’s entire dick and gut _throbs_. He strains against the rope and Loki’s head falls back as he chuckles at him. “Helpless little thing, aren’t you? Useless, pathetic brat. Have to tie you up to get some use out of you, don’t I?” His hand moves faster and Clint watches desperately. Suddenly, Loki moves, straddles Clint, pushes him over onto his back, just on the edge of falling off the bed. He settles right over Clint’s dick, lubes him up, and Clint’s eyes roll back in his head as his cock slides deep into Loki.

Fuck. _Fuck_. Loki likes being fucked just as much as Clint does, and they switch off who bottoms regularly. But even with the hundreds of times Clint’s dick has been in Loki’s ass, every time it feels like the first time, feels like the best thing he’s ever experienced. Loki rides him well, slick and hot and tight, squeezing as he pulls off of Clint and then settling down deep on him. His calves and feet are trapped underneath him and it aches, he feels the stretch in his thighs and stomach, and Clint moans as Loki squeezes around him.

Loki looms over him and Clint is beneath him, where he belongs. He is being used and giving his god pleasure; there is nothing else he is useful for, nothing else he’s good for. Loki, for once, stays quiet as he fucks himself on Clint’s cock, just lets out punched moans, throwing his head back, Clint’s eyes locked on the long length of his throat and his pale chest. 

When Loki comes, he strips his cock and spurts over Clint’s chest and face, squeezing tightly enough around Clint that he tries to pump his hips as he comes as well, filling Loki up. Loki gasps and his head falls forward, then, as he pulls off Clint’s sensitive dick, he leans forward and smiles. “Is that all you can give me? I barely even felt your cock inside of me, you know. Maybe I should’ve cast an enlarging charm on you to make it at all pleasurable for me.” Clint grits his teeth into the rope. “Oh? Shouldn’t you be happy at all that your god even deigned to use you? I could’ve gone to someone else. Someone useful. My brother gets so much pleasure from the Soldier, perhaps I should use him as well.”

Clint struggles against his bonds. Loki doesn’t talk like this very often, since usually Clint will fire back with comments about finding someone else, but he seems to be taking pleasure from it and really, that’s good enough for Clint. He tries to fight against his bonds but ends up just falling over onto his side. Loki chuckles at him and moves off him, settling back up against the pillows. He still looks flushed and his legs fall open, letting Clint see his reddened hole, a bit of his come sliding out of it.

Loki waves his hand and the rope in Clint’s mouth loosens enough that he can spit it out. “Maybe we should both fuck Barnes,” Clint offers up, voice hoarse. “Or you could sit and watch him fuck me. Maybe he’d finally do it right.”

Loki’s eyes narrow and he taps his fingers on his thigh. Clint gives him a smug look. “What about the two of them?” Loki finally says. “Thor would tear you in two.”

Clint pretends to consider that. “He was wearing nice boots at our last meeting,” he considers, licking his lips. “Looked kind of dirty, too.”

Loki finally loses what’s left of his patience and straddles Clint again, summoning an inflatable gag that he pushes behind Clint’s teeth and then inflates. “Shut up,” Loki hisses to him, tightening the ropes holding Clint’s arms and legs behind his back. “The brattiest, most impertinent little _scoundrel_. I have _killed_ when others touched you and you say you would go to my—to Thor? You despicable little brat.”

Clint smiles to himself as Loki continues on, slicking up a plug. He moans behind the gag as Loki shoves the plug inside him and then works it against Clint’s prostate until his hips are twitching and his dick is valiantly trying to get hard again. Loki edges him until Clint is breathing heavily through his nose and his chest is straining and then leaves him, going back up to the top of the bed and pretending he isn’t pouting. He crosses his arms over his chest and curls up under the covers, turning the light off with a wave of his hand.

Clint knows exactly what’s going on. He’s spent every day of the past two years with Loki and knows him as well as a person can know someone. Loki is a being of jealousy and insecurity and doesn’t like when Clint doesn’t play along. He does most of the time, but he’s still the same guy he was before Loki, and sometimes he can’t help it. Loki likes to think he has an exhibition or voyeurism kink, but in the end, he always kind of chickens out when he’s the subject of it and not Clint. He likes to be humiliated but only to a certain point, and then he shuts down, and his breaking point changes every time. Clint doesn’t mind. No matter how it goes, it’s always perfect, because he has Loki. 

Loki waves his hand after awhile of sitting in the dark and the gag deflates and Clint pushes it out of his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean it,” Clint rasps. “I don’t want anyone other than you.”

Sitting up a bit, Loki looks at him and nods. “I suppose I have been...uncomfortable with the thought of Thor around. He has a habit of taking everything I have. I do not wish to lose you.”

Clint would shrug if he could. “You don’t need to worry about that, sir. I swear.”

Loki nods. He stretches a hand down the bed and Clint scoots and wiggles enough that he can nuzzle into it, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you,” Loki whispers. “You cannot leave me.”

“I love you,” Clint says against Loki’s palm. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

* * *

Clint wakes up to Loki gently untying him and working his joints and muscles to make sure there’s no damage. He moans and pushes his head into Loki’s stomach. “Hush,” Loki murmurs. “Stay calm.” He’s not good at it but he does it anyway. Once Loki deems him well enough, Clint slides off the bed and presses his head to Loki’s feet. Loki sits on the edge of the bed and Clint stretches out on the floor, prostrate. “Good boy,” Loki says quietly.

“Sir,” Clint whimpers. He prays.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Loki asks, tone mild, like he’s reading the newspaper or something. “Always so desperate to debase yourself for me. Rather pathetic, wouldn’t you think?”

“Pathetic,” Clint repeats. His hips twitch; he has to piss, and he knows Loki knows it. He just wants to be good, wants to serve, wants to give Loki whatever he needs and wants. 

“Are you going to piss yourself?” Loki asks archly. “You disgust me. You can’t even make it all the way to the toilet, can you?”

“I can’t,” Clint sobs, and he rolls over onto his back, hands stretched up over his shoulders, holding onto Loki’s calves. Loki puts one foot on Clint’s shoulder and the other over his neck, cuts off a bit of his air. “I need to, sir, I have to go to the bathroom, I don’t want to mess myself.”

Loki makes a disgusted sound. “And, look at this! Your tiny little dick is hard! Are you getting turned on at the thought of wetting yourself? Clint, you might stain the floor. What if your piss stains my clothes? Norns have mercy, what if someone _smells it?_ ”

“Sir,” Clint begs, and he can’t hold it any longer, not that he was trying hard in the first place. Loki has him well trained and he long ago got over any squeamishness, and with a moan, he lets loose and groans in relief as the pressure from his bladder eases as he pisses all over himself, covering his torso and leaking out onto the floor. Loki makes a disgusted sound and the foot on Clint’s neck digs in deeper. 

“Oh, you disgusting little man! There’s piss on everything!” With that, Clint slicks his hand with his own piss and begins to jack off, but Loki leans down and slaps his hand away. “Nasty little boys don’t get to pleasure themselves,” Loki tells him. Then hot, acrid-smelling liquid hits Clint’s chest, spurts out to land on his dick, and Clint whimpers. “This is all you’re good for, isn’t it? A human toilet.”

“Use me, sir,” Clint begs.

“I am a god, you dull creature. You think I would dirty my holy body with the likes of you?”

“I need it, sir, I need you to—”

Someone knocks on the door to their quarters. They both freeze and then Loki hauls Clint to his feet, pushing clothes into his hands and clicking his fingers, magicking away the piss. 

“Yes?” Loki calls, opening the door to their bedroom. 

“Stark told me to come get you for breakfast,” comes Barnes’s tired voice. “He also says he’s permanently disabling the cameras in your rooms.”

“He should not be spying anyway,” Loki grumbles, “but very well, do come in.” Barnes comes in, leans against the back of the couch, crosses his ankles. “Why did they send you?” It’s just Barnes, so Clint holds the clothes up over his crotch as he runs to the bathroom to shower. 

Barnes shrugs. “Think I was just the first guy he saw.” He nervously rubs his hand over his thigh. “Do you know what I did to him?”

Loki shakes his head. 

“When HYDRA had me, I killed his parents. So Stark doesn’t like me much.”

Loki considers that. “Were his parents anything like him? If so, I cannot imagine the world considers it any kind of a loss.”

“At least _try_ to be respectful,” Clint yells from the bathroom. Loki rolls his eyes at Barnes, who looks stuck between horrified and amused. 

“You’d think he’d know better by now,” Barnes says, a bit teasingly. 

Loki huffs. “Clint has an obsession with trying to better those around him. I suppose even I am not resistant to his wiles.”

“My _what!?_ ” Clint shrieks.

“He said your willy! Your dick!” Barnes yells. “Thought your ears got fixed.”

Clint pokes his head out from the bathroom, still soaking wet, and says to Loki, “What’re my ears at now? You got me to 60% hearing, right?”

Loki’s mouth turns down but he shrugs nonchalantly. “I have been unable to restore your healing past 58%.”

Clint shrugs. “Lot better than it was.” He winks at them and then ducks back into the bathroom to get back into the shower, singing off tune as he does. 

“He seems happy,” Barnes remarks to Loki, who looks pleased. 

“He is doing very well,” Loki replies softly. “I would not change anything about him.”

“You think marriage?”

Loki considers that and then shakes his head. “We are not...our footing in our relationship is not equal. He would be discontent binding ourselves together in a manner that says he is equal to me. But perhaps a bonding.”

Barnes taps his neck. “Get him a collar.” Loki’s eyes widen and Barnes shrugs. “Smarter than I look.”

“I will consider it,” Loki finally says, but it’s pretty clear he thinks it’s a good idea. “Are you hoping to become a new Prince of Asgard? Or, I suppose, you would be another King.”

Barnes grimaces. “God, no. I don’t even know what I’d say if Thor asked. I could never deal with that level of responsibility.” He shakes his head. 

Loki glances behind them at the closed bathroom door and then takes a step closer to Bucky, lowering his head so he can speak quietly to him. “How does my brother fare? Is he well? He looks tired.”

“Well, he is,” Barnes says. “But he’s doing alright. He’s really stressed out because of Amora, and once we lost to her, he knew right away you were our only chance. He thinks Amora snuck into the coronation in disguise and that’s how she found out about Thor being in a relationship, since there’s no other reason I would’ve been there other than that.”

Loki considers that. “Thor may be right,” he grudgingly admits, tapping at his chin. He steps back and leans against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “The wards around Asgard _are_ lowered during events such as a coronation to allow so many delegates from other realms in. Perhaps his seidrmadrs inadvertently lowered the ones that keep out banished citizens as well, and she extorted the loophole.”

Barnes is doing a decent job of knowing what Loki’s talking about. Clint comes out of the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist. Barnes’s eyebrows raise when he sees the state of Clint’s torso, but he didn’t say anything. Clint winks at them and goes into the bedroom to get dressed, joining them a couple minutes later. Loki holds out a hand for him and Clint takes it. Loki’s free hand lifts and rests against his throat, thumb brushing over where a collar would sit.

Clint softens and smiles gently up at him. “Breakfast?” he asks. “M’hungry.”

Loki nods and they follow Barnes out of their rooms.

Later, after breakfast, after Clint has to uncomfortably sit next to Loki at the table instead of on the floor at his feet, they all group together with the Avengers to talk further about Amora. Stark brought in the Stonekeeper, a man named Strange. Loki is immediately and thoroughly unimpressed by him. From what he can understand, Strange has to pull his power from alternate dimensions, and can only pull time magic from his control over the Time Stone. How boring.

Barnes joins Cap and another man named Sam across the table, and Thor sits next to Bucky, taking his hand on top of the table. Clint and Loki glance at each other and Clint raises his eyebrows. Loki sits down and motions Clint to the seat next to him.

Clint fucking hates this. His place is at Loki’s feet, as low as he can get. It’s not right for him to be at the same level when Loki is so much better and greater than him. His purpose is to worship and he can’t do that when he’s not on his knees. But he sits.

“Amora is a witch primarily driven by her jealousy,” Loki begins. “She is rather easy to defeat once you realize that to stop her, you must throw her off her game.” Stark pulls up the video they’d been watching the day before and Loki motions at the staff Amora is carrying. “I need to get my hands on that staff.”

“Hold on,” Stark speaks up, shaking his head. “We don’t you with that staff. If this is what Amora is capable of, then what can you do with it?”

“I do not need anything that directs or channels my abilities,” Loki replies simply. “I am fully capable of wreaking far more chaos than Amora has ever done, and I do not need a crutch to do it.” He looks pointedly at the sling ring and the Eye of Agamotto Strange is wearing. Strange ignores him.

“Hold on,” Sam says, holding up a hand. “You’re more powerful than Amora? I watched videos of you from your failed invasion. You didn’t do anything like what she’s capable of.”

Loki and Clint both chuckle in amusement. Loki raises an eyebrow. “You cannot be this naive.”

“Excuse me?”

“I acted under orders when I invaded your planet. If I wished to do more than sow the seeds of chaos, why would I have opened the portals over a heavily populated city? I was either going to be killed by Thanos or eventually be brought back to Asgard and killed in a far less painful way there. What would you have chosen?”

They all exchange glances. “But you escaped from Asgard,” Nat speaks up.

“I did,” Loki agrees. He looks down at Clint. “I went in search of something.” Clint preens. “Now, I have no interest in invading your realm. I had little interest in it to begin with. If you would like my help in defeating Amora, then let us get back on track.”

“What’s going to happen to her afterwards?” Banner speaks up.

“If we do not kill her, then she will be taken prisoner in Asgard’s dungeons, I assume,” Loki replies, looking to Thor, who nods. “I would suppose Asgard’s goal is to kill her, as merely sending her off with her tail between her legs has led us to this.”

“You said you caught her in a time field once,” Strange says. Loki nods.

“I created a box made from a time spell that froze her in a block of time. She was able to watch as time passed around her but did not pass for her. Unfortunately, her...henchman, Skurge, was able to take an axe to the spell and break her out. I soon rectified the situation.”

“Rectified the situation?” Stark’s friend speaks up. Clint still doesn’t know his name.

“Took his own axe to his head, if I remember correctly,” Thor replies for him. Loki nods. “Alright, what is your plan this time, brother?”

Loki’s mouth turns down. “Have your Stonekeeper trap her arm in another dimension, someone will take her staff, and then when she is back to her previously attained level of power, I will battle her, and I will kill her.”

“This plan seems to revolve around you doing most of the work,” Stark notes.

“Is that not why I am here? To do what you could not? I know that you have fought Amora more than you have told me. How many times is it now? Three? Four?”

Clint looks down the table and then up at the video. “More than that,” he says to Loki. “They have a few plans of attack and they don’t try traditional battling techniques. They clearly tried taking her all down at once, and found it doesn’t work. So they’re going after her one at a time and distracting her while Strange chips at her defenses. They wouldn’t be that coordinated without battling her at least a few times.”

Loki nods. “So, Thor? How long has Amora antagonized this realm?”

“She’s been here three months,” Thor mutters angrily. “The staff makes her impossible to defeat. I lost half of my Einherjar army to her with one swipe of it.”

Loki smiles slowly and darkly. “I always did like a challenge.”


	3. part three

Clint opens his eyes and winces. “What the fuck?” he mutters, trying to hold up a hand to block the harsh light above him, but his hands are chained down. “Loki? Turn down the light.” He coughs through a dry throat and moans as pain begins to make itself known.

A moment later, a silhouette peers over him and then the light dims. Clint blinks a few times and then peers up to see Steve. “Cap?” he rasps. “Where’s Loki?”

Steve frowns at him and then looks up as Sam comes in, followed shortly by an unfamiliar nurse. They check his vitals and the nurse gives him a few ice cubes and then a small cup of water. His hands are still cuffed to the railings and he’s starting to think it wasn’t Loki who tied him up.

“You’re gonna have to tell me where he is eventually,” Clint says, wincing as the nurse hits a button that raises the back of the bed so he’s sitting up. Steve and Sam exchange uncomfortable glances and then Sam sighs.

“He’s gone,” Sam tells him. He even sounds regretful. He and Steve take each other’s hands. “He left. He got Amora’s staff and he ran. Even Thor can’t find him.”

Clint stares up at the ceiling and frowns. He doesn’t believe it for a second. But the last thing he can remember is Amora, trapped in a binding spell, her left hand caught in one of Strange’s portals, and then Thor steps up to her and brings down an axe and severs her head. Then there’s...nothing. It’s all dark. Loki wouldn’t leave him. He had dozens of chances over the past two years and he never left Clint. He _wouldn’t._

He goes quiet. He’s not supposed to talk to anyone besides Loki anyway. He takes basic care of himself after they try to give him a sponge bath and he freaks out. Loki might’ve left but no one else is allowed to touch him regardless. He tries to break out so many times that they end up posting three permanent guards around his room. 

They give him human food to eat but his body hasn’t processed any type of food other than _kras_ in nearly two years, so he vomits it all back up and they have to put a feeding tube in. He can barely hold down water.

All the Avengers come to visit him as the days pass. Natasha stays with him the most and when he doesn’t talk to her, she tells him about what she’s been doing since he left. Apparently Stark and Steve got in a huge fight—something about some kind of Accords or something—but Amora coming to Earth made them start talking again. Thor has been spending a lot of time on Earth, even after his coronation, and it seems that he and Barnes are really happy together.

It’s worse than the year he spent without Loki before he was able to go back to him. Back then, he’d only had the barest hint of what he was missing. Now, he fully knows what’s gone. He still doesn’t think Loki left him, but all Clint knows is that he’s _alone_. He hasn’t been alone in two years. He doesn’t know how to be alone. All he knows how to do anymore is serve and worship. He’s not built for anything else.

Steve tries to get him out of bed, tries to get him to walk around, but Clint isn’t having any of it. Without Loki, he has no purpose. He’d think that out of everyone, Steve would understand the most, given that he’s driven by something deep to fight and always do what’s right and that he can’t rest if he knows he can help. Clint is the same way; his entire soul is swarmed with the need to serve and worship and it can’t be much different than how Steve feels.

But they won’t let him go. He breaks his hands and wrists trying to get out, and all they do is put his arms in casts and then bind his feet. He manages to get out of that and one of the guards finds him halfway out the window, and they end up sedating him so that he’s not even awake enough to realize what’s missing.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. It’s been days, weeks, months, years. Any time without Loki stretches off into the horizon and doesn’t end. Barnes sneaks in a few times and brings Clint bits of chocolate and a bite of pizza once and even a soda, but Clint can’t keep anything down.

He ends up breaking free of the handcuffs and slumping down on the floor, head resting on the side of the bed, pretending Loki is just above him, sleeping. He pretends Loki is just in the next room, that he’s coming back soon, that Clint just has to be patient enough and he’ll be rewarded with Loki’s presence again.

He knows he’s losing weight. He’s not taking care of himself beyond anything necessary for survival. He can barely breathe with the weight of Loki’s absence.

They eventually move him out of the infirmary and down to the secure holding cells. He has a bed, a small desk and chair bolted to the wall, a toilet and sink, and nothing else. Twice a day, a nurse comes in and gives him a change of clothes and brings him food and if he doesn’t eat it, they force feed him. Everything tastes like dust.

One day, the person next to him yells, “Will you _shut up?_ ”

“What am I saying?” Clint asks. His hearing is getting worse now that Loki isn’t here.

“Some guy’s name. Shut the fuck up.”

He closes his eyes. He just wants his life back.

* * *

“It’s been a month,” Nat says one day from outside his cell. “You’re wasting away. You’re just going to die here? Is that your plan?”

“I don’t have a plan,” Clint replies tiredly. He’s slumped on the floor next to the bed. He’s not good enough to sleep in a bed if Loki isn’t there. His back hurts so much it’s all he can’t think about, but maybe Loki will come back if he knows Clint is in pain. “I just want him back.”

“He’s not coming back,” Natasha says. “Let’s go for a walk.”

Because it’s Natasha, Clint gets up. He wouldn’t for anyone else. The plexiglass opens and Clint staggers out, and she leads him down a hall and through a door and then they’re outside. Clint winces at the sunlight and and then looks around. “It’s nice out,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

Natasha takes his hand and they walk. They don’t go far, just to a bench, where Clint sits and feels the sun on his face and looks at his friend and up at the blue sky. “What happened?” he asks finally. “I don’t remember the fight.”

She smiles at him. “It went exactly the way Loki said it would. Amora came down and began to fight us. We grouped together and she raised her spear, and right as she was going to send a spell at us, Loki stepped out and brought down a half-sphere around us so that nothing could out or in. Amora tried to fight through it but didn’t even make a dent. Then she saw Loki and attacked him, but he barely had to do anything to hold her off. You shot a few arrows that somehow set of a forcefield that locked her in place long enough for Strange to get the spear away from her. Then Thor cut her head off and sent it to Asgard while we burned her body. Somewhere in there, Loki got his hands on the spear and he vanished.”

Clint takes all that in. He doesn’t have any reason to disbelieve her. He just can’t believe Loki left him.

Natasha helps him back to his cell and he asks her how much longer he’s going to have to be in there. “Once you start feeding yourself,” she tells him, and he nods and curls up on the bed. His back and legs hurt too much to be on the floor, even if that’s where he belongs. Guess he’s never getting out of the cell.

He wakes up the next morning to see Barnes sitting outside of his cell. Clint wants to cry. Why does Barnes get his god but Clint doesn’t? They hadn’t even _done_ anything; they’d been good, they just wanted a place to live in peace. They’d just wanted to be left alone. Maybe Loki had gotten tired of him. Maybe Loki had found someone else.

“You have to get me out of here,” he begs Barnes. “I’m gonna die here.”

Barnes sighs at him. “I can’t,” he replies, sounding torn. He looks up and down the hall. “Barton, I—”

From down the hall, Thor calls his name. Barnes grimaces and gets up. He mutters an apology and skitters off, and Clint whines to himself and turns his face into his pillow and he sobs. He wants to die. He doesn’t _understand_. Loki spent two years keeping him safe and now he leaves him? For what, some staff?

It doesn’t make any sense and Clint isn’t smart enough to make sense of it. All he wants is Loki to come back. If he’d done something wrong, he can fix it. He’s been good. He doesn’t think he’s done anything bad, but he shouldn’t be abandoned if he’s just made a mistake. He can’t get out of the cell and he’s going to waste away and he’s going to die here. They’re going to pull his corpse out and he’s going to rot away in some unmarked grave and he’ll never find Loki again.

He racks his brain trying to come up with some clue or hint that Loki could’ve left him, if Loki gave him some sign that he was going to leave and Clint had to find him. But Clint barely remembers the battle with Amora at all. He remembers the night before, where Loki had trussed him up and blindfolded and gagged him and plugged his ears and left him on the bed, and then, once he was losing his mind with arousal and lack of stimulation, had stuck his cock so far up Clint’s ass that he could almost taste it. Then he’d put a pocket pussy over Clint’s dick and had fucked him into it until Clint had been moaning and coming into it, then Loki had made him eat his own spend out of the silicone tube. It’d been perfect. He’d woken up the next morning and Loki had taken his face into his hands and they’d made out in bed for twenty minutes until Thor had banged on the door and told them to get ready.

He’d had it all and he’d done his best to appreciate it and he still lost so much more than he’d even realized. 

Clint’s tired. He thinks he’s going to sleep for a year. He doesn’t want to be awake in a world where Loki isn’t with him.

He closes his eyes.

When he dreams, he dreams of Loki.

* * *

He jerks awake and it’s too bright. Steve is asleep in the chair next to his bed. Clint chokes and there’s something down his throat and he tries to pull it out, but his hands are tied down and some alarm is going off and he’s—

He’s going to die.

Clint calms back down at that realization. Without Loki, death is preferable.

A nurse takes the tube out of his throat and Steve wakes up, takes Clint’s hand, reassures him that he’s fine. He just passed out in his cell a few days ago and went into a coma. They should’ve just killed him, Clint thinks. Just let him die.

He can’t hear much but he hears the scuffle in the hallway, and Steve stands up, moves between Clint’s bed and the doorway. Then the door slams open and Loki is there. His hair is wild and greasy and all over the place and his eyes are bright and furious. 

“You’re not going to take him,” Steve says. His shoulders are broad and he stands against the only thing that makes Clint’s heart keep beating. Clint sits up and he takes Loki in.

“Where have you been?” Clint rasps. “You left me.”

“I took the staff to Asgard to be destroyed and they put me back in prison,” Loki tells him, ignoring Steve. “I only got out yesterday. I came back for you.”

Clint sags and he holds out a hand.

Loki brushes Steve aside like he’s paper mache. Steve stumbles and goes to a knee and in that moment, Loki moves forward and takes Clint’s hand and they vanish.

They land on a bed in a bubble underwater. Clint lets out a sob and Loki shushes him, wraps him in his arms, holds him close.

“You left me,” he cries into Loki’s shoulder, strong arms wrapped around him. Loki sits back against the headboard and lets Clint cry himself out.

“I know,” Loki murmurs, petting his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”

It takes awhile for Clint to cry himself out and when he does, he’s trembling and shaking and Loki finally rolls him over so Loki is on top of him, holding him down. “It wasn’t intentional,” Loki says to him, and he tugs Clint’s shirt off. “I even asked the guards to tell Thor to tell you that I would be back as soon as possible, but I see my message was not delivered.”

“Did Thor know?” Clint asks, twisting his hips so Loki can get his pants and underwear off. He would be ashamed of his thin, haggard form, but he doesn’t have any shame around Loki. He watches his god’s face as Loki looks him over with a frown.

“You didn’t look this bad two years ago,” Loki murmurs to him, and then leans down and gifts Clint with a kiss. Clint presses up into him, drinks Loki in, feels like Loki is water and he’s a dying man in a desert. Loki smiles against his mouth and then pulls back. “Yes, Thor knew, but only a few days ago. They took me and did not inform the King. I believe Thor is still bringing down his punishment on them.” Loki looks smug at that and then reaches down and long, slick fingers slide inside Clint’s hole. Clint moans and throws his head back and shivers wrack his body. “It’s been nearly a month and a half and your body still opens for me like I was inside you this morning,” Loki purrs, and Clint reaches up, Loki gifting him with a kiss.

“You can’t leave me again,” Clint begs, tears in his eyes. Loki slicks up his cock and slides home. Heat suffuses Clint’s body and he wraps his arms and legs around Loki, holds his god close as he prays at the temple of him.

“Never,” Loki swears, giving minute thrusts, making sure Clint’s body is as open and as willing to him as it always has been. “I will kill them all for keeping me from me. Is that what you want?”

For a moment, Clint lets himself revel in the thought of Loki razing the world for him. He thinks about Loki tearing apart all of his friends and demolishing buildings and turning into a beast of pure power and energy and all for Clint, who could never deserve it. He moans at the thought, and Loki’s cock slides deliciously along his prostate and he shudders. 

“Hush,” Loki murmurs, pulling Clint’s arms from around him and pinning them above his head. His hips move slowly and deeply and his cock is bigger than Clint remembers, filling him perfectly. The hole that Loki’s absence left has been finally made whole. 

When Loki comes, he kisses Clint and then reaches down and slowly jacks him off until Clint shudders beneath him. Then Loki hikes Clint’s hips up and waits until his dick isn’t too sensitive so that he can fill Clint up with his piss. Clint moans at being so full, so full of Loki, and Loki slips out of him, plugs him up with a bit of magic, kisses him.

“Don’t leave me,” Clint whispers, and Loki holds him close as he falls asleep. He can’t be alone again.

* * *

They spend the next few days in bed. Loki brought him to an underwater planet called Powx, and rented one of the few hotel rooms for non-planet residents. Clint gorges himself on _kras_ and bruises his knees with how much time he spends on them. His body grew unused to his proper place while he was alone, but he’s glad to relearn it. Their room isn’t big, but Clint doesn’t need to go anywhere. He likes to watch the strange wildlife float and swim overhead in the strange water. More than that, he likes to watch Loki.

There’s a table across from the bed that Loki is sitting at. Clint picks up one of the pillows from the bed and sets it next to Loki’s chair and then kneels on it. He leans against Loki’s thigh and sighs, closing his eyes. He prays.

Loki’s hand pets over his hair. “You know whenever you pray to me, I can hear it.”

“I know,” Clint murmurs. “That’s the point.” _Hear me,_ he prays. _Know that you are holy to me and I am beholden to you, Loki my lord. I ask for nothing other than you. Never let me be separate from you again._

Loki’s hand cups the back of his head and tugs his head up. Clint props his chin on Loki’s thigh, looks up at him. Loki’s fingers smooth over his mouth and then slide in, exploring his mouth, over his teeth, pressing down on his tongue. Clint drools around him, eyes fluttering shut.

He’s finally feeling normal now that he’s not being force fed and that he’s getting _kras_ again. He’s asked Loki why he can’t seem to stomach any other foods and Loki hems and haws and then finally admits that _kras_ has an addictive component and that’s one of the reasons he fed it to Clint in the first place. Clint thinks he should be mad but it’s not like Loki is going to stop getting it for him, so he just demands more of it and eats until his stomach hurts. 

He tells Loki about the feeding tube, the sedatives, the armed guards, the handcuffs and chains, the nurse who used to pin him down and shove food in his mouth until he either suffocated or ate it. Loki grows quiet and then he takes soft scarves, ties Clint’s hands behind his back, ties his legs underneath him so he’s kneeling on a soft cushion, and feeds him small bits of _kras_ until his head is swimming.

Loki finds the scars from the feeding tube and bites over them until they’re a mass of his own teeth marks and when Clint runs his hand over it, he can’t tell the difference between them. Loki infuses his previously broken bones with magic and Clint wonders if this is how devout religious folks feel when they’re in church or wherever. He kneels at Loki’s feet and holds up his hands in supplication and receives Loki’s blessing.

One morning, Clint wakes up before Loki and he stretches, watching a huge alien beast swim lazily overhead. He’s sprawled out over the bottom of the bed while Loki has the top, and he’s debating either jacking off or getting up to go to the bathroom when Loki stirs. 

“Good morning, sir,” Clint greets cheerfully. Loki grumbles at him. Clint slides off the bed and clambers up the side to kneel closest to Loki, who gives him a fond look. 

“You are looking healthy again,” Loki remarks, reaching out and pushing back Clint’s hair. It’s gotten a bit longer than he likes, but Loki hasn’t told him to cut it, so he’s not paying it any mind. “I suppose you’d like to service me, then.”

He feels like an over excited dog when he nods eagerly. Loki sighs at him and sits up, swings his legs out of bed so he’s straddling Clint’s shoulders. He slept naked and he’s already half hard and Clint blinks at the peek he gets of a red plug in Loki’s ass. Clint pauses for a moment, drinking in the sight, and when Loki delicately clears his throat, he dips his head down and goes in for a taste. 

He’s never understood how Loki’s skin tastes so _good_. Clint never really had a thing for biting before Loki, but now he gets it. He just wants to dig his teeth in and and tear flesh and get as much of that taste in his mouth as possible. He wants to brand it on his tongue. He nuzzles down to the sparse hairs at the base of Loki’s cock and then licks a stripe up, slowly, taking in every wrinkle and ridge and vein. Clint swirls his tongue around the head, moans at the taste of pre-come, then swallows him down, sucking Loki down into his throat.

Above him, Loki moans, and his hands find Clint’s hair. Clint meant for this to be slow and leisurely, to help him and his god find their way back to each other, but Loki seems to have other ideas. He holds Clint’s head in place as he stands up and spins them around, pinning Clint back against the bed, and he pushes his dick back into Clint’s mouth without any regard for him at all. 

Loki’s hips pump as he uses Clint’s mouth and throat for his own pleasure. All Clint does is do his best to stay wet and open and sloppy and to drool around Loki’s cock and choke on it when Loki’s moans and to suck him as best as he can. He’s had Loki’s cock in his mouth hundreds of times over the past couple years but it seems bigger now, heavier on his tongue, thicker as it punches down his throat and demands a home for itself. 

It’s in the middle of Clint trying to gasp a breath when he realizes Loki has been talking. He tries to focus but Loki’s dick is overwhelming and overstimulating, but he hears enough to make him moan. “Disgusting slut,” Loki gasps. “Surprised you didn’t try to fuck your way out of that prison cell.” Clint moans at the thought, thinking about him baring his hole to a bunch of anonymous SHIELD agents and letting them have their way with him. “Oh? What’s that? You _did?_ Oh, you little slutty thing, you. How many? Did they even prepare you? How many did you suck down first until they finally got so impatient for your ass that they fucked you without lube? Were you so desperate for it that you didn’t even care?”

Clint whimpers, drops a hand to stroke his own dick, bringing up the other to press against the plug in Loki’s ass. Loki gasps and his hips buck forward, somehow driving him even deeper into Clint’s mouth. Clint gags around him and moans, and above him, Loki moans, and then he pulls out of Clint’s mouth and yanks him up to lay him over the bed. Loki shoves him down on his stomach and hikes his hips up, rubs the tip of his cock over Clint’s hole.

“Sir,” he begs, “please. I need it.”

“Quiet,” Loki tells him. “I’ll tell you what you need.” He nods, lets his body go soft and useless, and Loki quickly slicks up his fingers and slides them in. Clint gasps and his eyes roll back in his head at the feeling of any part of Loki back inside him where he belongs. He’s not stretched out enough by far when Loki finally presses his cock against Clint’s hole and then slides in, but it’s better that way. The burn and the ache makes him grateful he’s able to serve Loki like this at all, that he can be good for him, that he can be tight enough that Loki can take his pleasure in him. “Oh,” Loki breathes, hands tight on Clint’s hips. “Your ass has missed me. I can tell.”

“Loki,” is all he can say. His mouth won’t form any other words. _My soul has missed you too,_ he wants to say. _So has my heart._ “ _Loki_.”

“Shut up,” Loki moans out, digging his nails into Clint’s skin. Then he leans forward, hunches over Clint like a beast, and bites down over the back of his neck, digs his teeth in, teeth grating against bone, blood welling up. Clint jerks his hips back so Loki goes even deeper inside of him, cock rubbing heavily along his prostate, and he moans.

Loki holds him down with his hands and his teeth and fucks into Clint like a man possessed. Clint stays loose and welcoming and open, lets Loki use him however he needs, and just a few minutes later, Loki is growling out his orgasm, fucking his come so deep into Clint that he wants to taste it. The pain of Loki’s teeth in his neck is just enough to keep Clint from coming and he whimpers out his need. Loki pulls his teeth out and pushes Clint’s shoulders down, licks up his blood, and lets out a shuddering breath, nuzzling into Clint’s hair. 

He doesn’t say anything, but Clint whimpers.

“Are you still horny?” Loki asks, and one long-fingered hand reaches around him and strokes over his throbbing cock. His voice is hoarse and fucked out and his cock finally softens enough to slip out of Clint, resting hot and damp against his thigh.

“Always for you,” Clint replies breathlessly.

“You know,” Loki tells him as he efficiently flips Clint over onto his back and settles his hips over Clint’s cock, “I slept with the plug inside me all night.”

With that, he pulls the bright red plug out of himself, casts a cleaning charm on it, and slides it into Clint’s ass. It’s still warm from being inside of Loki, who smiles down at him, smiles darkly and meanly and then Clint’s cock slides inside of his god and he is praying, worshipping at Loki’s shrine, giving him pleasure as only he can. Loki’s thighs are shaking as he slowly rides Clint’s cock, his own dick wet and soft against his thigh, and Clint’s mouth waters.

It doesn’t take long at all for Clint to stiffen and to shoot into Loki’s body, Loki milking his cock, leaning forward to nudge along Clint’s jaw and bite along his neck and the soft skin under his chin and then up to kiss him as Clint gasps. “Good boy,” Loki murmurs against his mouth. Clint keens.

He’s loose and willing as Loki pulls off him and tugs him out of bed. He crawls after Loki, who wraps a rope around himself and lounges on the couch on the opposite side of the room, conjuring up a glass of water for Clint. Clint settles at his feet and rests his head on Loki’s thigh as Loki pours water into his mouth, slowly and gently, brushing his sweaty hair off his forehead. Once he finishes the water, Loki nudges at his stomach until Clint goes up on his hands and knees, and Loki kicks his feet up onto his back. 

Ropes twist around him and hold him in place, tie his knees apart and wrap around his hips and up over his back, rubbing over the fresh bite mark and around his head, going in between his teeth and pulling his head back. Loki reads for awhile and then moves, sets a hot mug of coffee on Clint’s back and a plate of food, and then moves around on the couch so he can pet Clint’s hair and tug at the ropes keeping him in place. Loki opens a pocket dimension and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one of them with a click of his fingers, and he blows out a stream of smoke into Clint’s face, ashes the cigarette onto his back. 

They sit in comfortable silence for awhile as Clint settles comfortably back into his place in Loki’s life. He still feels a bit vulnerable from his time alone, but Loki is helping with that. Loki knows how he feels and knows that he can’t be left alone, knows that what Clint needs is to be touched and reassured and kept down where he belongs.

They spend a few more days on the underwater planet, and then Loki decides they should go to Asgard. Clint feels like a person again, feels like he’s Loki’s again, and he strolls along behind Loki as they move down the Bifrost bridge. Asgard is beautiful, beyond imagining, but nothing compares to the way Clint feels when Loki looks at him.

Thor is waiting for them at the end, and he greets them with a smile.

“Brother,” Thor says. Loki’s mouth turns down. “Come. We have a home for you.”

Loki and Clint exchange looks and Loki nods, holds out a hand for him.

They follow Thor out of the palace, down through the forest, through a field and down a long, winding path that eventually leads them to a castle. The sign outside is covered in Asgardian runes, and Clint knows enough of them to know that it says Loki’s name. Loki watches Thor carefully as he leads them up to the castle and pushes open the front gates.

It’s beautiful inside. Thor tells them he commissioned it once Heimdall found them. Thor explains all of his various design choices while Clint explores. There’s dozens of rooms, all decorated to Loki’s taste, everything with green and gold accents. It’s lovely. Clint is in awe.

He’s digging around in the library—he doesn’t really get where all the books came from but there’s thousands of them—when Loki finds him again a few hours ago. Clint turns to him like he’s the sun, giving Loki a smile. Loki cups the back of his neck, rubs his fingers over the barely healed bite mark, and looks around.

“Oh,” Loki murmurs. “These books are all from my rooms. I thought Odin had them destroyed when I was incarcerated.” He reaches out, runs his fingers over a few of the books. Clint leans into his side.

“Maybe Thor saved them?”

“Or Frigga,” Loki mutters, sounding annoyed. He makes an irritated sound and pulls Clint out of the library and to one of the dining rooms. There’s a long table that Clint thinks is kind of preposterous, already set at the head with a full setting. There’s a small pillow at the side of the chair and Clint obediently takes his place as Loki sits. “Thor told me there’s already housekeeping spells in place, so we will not have to cook or clean.”

Clint shrugs. It isn’t important to him. Loki hands him a mound of _kras_ and Clint nibbles on it while Loki eats. Then his plates all float off and Loki pulls Clint to his feet, leads him to their new bedroom. He looks nervous.

Clint settles down on the plush carpet on the side of the bed while Loki busies himself in the bathroom. The carpet feels like fur of some sort and Clint is stroking it when Loki comes back, a small box in his hands. He’s wearing a lovely black robe that’s open in the front and Clint’s mouth waters at the sight of him.

Loki perches on the bed next to him and strokes his fingers over the planes of Clint’s face. “I love you,” Loki murmurs. “We went through all of this to be together.”

Clint looks up at him. He never wants to look at anyone else. “I’d go through a thousand lifetimes if I got to be with you at the end,” he vows.

Loki opens the box and holds out a collar. It’s gold and there are rubies and emeralds next to the clasp, and Loki’s name is engraved deep in the front of it. Clint gasps, reaching out for it before he’s really aware of what he’s doing. “Sir,” he mutters in amazement. Loki lets him hold it. It’s heavy and flexible and beautiful. “Are you proposing?”

Loki swallows thickly and then nods. “We spent two years running, only to have my brother build us a home back on the realm I had run from in the first place. I know that you would be opposed to us binding in a more traditional sense, but I wished to show you my devotion.” Clint shivers at the depth of emotion in Loki’s voice.

“Please,” Clint whimpers, and he hands the collar back and bows his head. Loki strokes over his neck, gently places the collar around him, presses the rubies and emeralds together and the collar binds together in a seamless loop. It’s heavy, it’s pulling Clint down to the floor, and he goes with it, presses his face to Loki’s bare feet, blesses him with his tears. “Thank you,” he sobs. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’d suppose a god’s most faithful and holy of disciples would deserve the highest honor,” Loki says around the tears in his own voice. “And I have gifted you the greatest gift I could.”

Clint nods, takes a few deep breaths until he feels like he can talk without breaking out into tears again. He slumps to his side, rests his chin on the top of Loki’s foot, and says, “Ever since I was a kid, I was looking for something. I was looking for you. Thank you for letting me serve you.”

“Of course,” Loki breathes out. “Thank you for serving me.”

He nods, cries a bit more, and Loki pulls him up into bed, slips a few fingers under the collar and pulls on Clint’s neck until he passes out. Clint wakes up a few minutes later to Loki sliding inside of him, taking his pleasure in his body, Loki fucking into him hard and deep. Loki digs his fingers into the bite mark at the back of Clint’s neck until it’s weeping blood again, and then reaches down and rubs the blood over his cock. Clint gasps at the feeling and tilts his hips back up so Loki’s cock can reach even deeper depths.

“You’re mine,” Loki hisses into his ear, bites down above the collar, tightens his grasp on it until Clint’s vision starts to go dark again. “I’ll kill you before I let anyone touch you.”

Clint was barely even hard, just swimming in the space of Loki dominating him and taking his pleasure in him, but he shakes out an orgasm at Loki’s threat. “Yes, sir,” he sobs. “Don’t let anyone touch me, sir, I’m yours.”

“Good,” Loki hisses, his cock so hard and hot inside of Clint that he feels overwhelmed with it. “You’re mine,” he says again, and wrings enough pleasure out of Clint that he feels like he’s going to faint again. “You’re so tight,” Loki hisses on a ragged breath. His hips stutter in a familiar way. “Beg me for it.”

Clint tries to gasp but the collar is too tight, but he manages to get out, “Loki, sir, _please_ come in me, please bless me with your come, I need to serve you—”

He gets choked off by Loki’s hand clapping over his mouth, fingers digging into his lips, down onto his tongue, and Loki fucks deep into him, filling him up with hot come. He doesn’t deserve this, Clint suddenly thinks, moaning around Loki’s fingers. He doesn’t deserve for Loki to treat him like he’s worth anything, like he—

“Shut up,” Loki orders brusquely, and Clint’s mind goes immediately and blissfully silent. Loki tugs his cock out of Clint’s ass and wipes it off on his thigh, then pulls out his fingers and wipes the drool off on Clint’s cheek. He rolls over onto his back and lets out a content sigh. Clint curls up to Loki and nuzzles into his side. “Good boy,” Loki murmurs.

They lie there for a few minutes as they both catch their breath and then Loki rolls Clint over onto his back. He settles over Clint’s hips and pinches at his nipples until they’re tender and swollen and Clint is whimpering, and then Loki leans forward and sinks his teeth into the skin right above Clint’s heart. Clint’s heart pounds so hard that Loki can feel it in his jaw as he digs his teeth in, sliding his tongue over Clint’s sweaty skin, and bites down until Clint’s flesh willingly gives way and blood wells up.

Loki digs deep until Clint is instinctively trying to get away, trying to stop himself but his body wants to escape, and Loki holds him down until he stops squirming. Loki lifts his head, blood on his lips and teeth and dripping down his chin, and he smiles. 

Clint arches up for a kiss, and Loki gives it to him.

Later, Loki pushes him down to the foot of the bed, and Clint sleeps deeply and comfortably, one hand on Loki’s ankle and the other on the new collar around his neck. 

The next morning, Clint wakes up before Loki. He rests in bed for awhile, listening to Loki’s deep, unvaried breathing, and he gets up, walks naked over to the balcony. He goes outside, leans against the railing, looks out over Asgard. The palace is far off in the distance, shining gold, and Clint wonders if Thor can see them. A blanket of trees and fields stretches out as far as Clint can see, and the sunrise is red and shining bright. 

Not bad for a circus brat from Earth, really. Clint smiles to himself and watches as the sun comes up. Loki joins him, tucks his fingers under Clint’s collar against the bite mark on the back of his neck, and presses a kiss to the crown of his head.

Clint looks up at his god and he smiles. Later, they’ll find the archery range in back and Clint will pull out his repertoire of tricks and impress Loki with everything he’s spent his entire life mastering. Later, a lot later, they’ll have Thor and Barnes over for dinner, and Loki and Thor will begin to slowly mend their relationship. Even after that, they’ll go back to Midgard for Steve and Sam’s wedding, and then, Barnes and Thor get married, the two of them standing out on the Bifrost as the sun shines on them. Soon after, they team up with the Avengers and they manage to kill Thanos, kill him and turn him to dust. He is dead and he means nothing.

They’ll grow restless, go out on trips, spend their days going from planet to planet, having sex on every surface and in front of as many aliens as they can manage. Clint realizes one day that he hasn’t gotten any older and decides not to think about it. If Loki wants him to live longer to serve him, then Clint will do it, and he will keep his place. He stays at Loki’s side as his friends on Earth all die of old age, as they bury one after another, and he stands at Loki’s side as Loki holds Thor’s hand while Barnes takes his last breath. 

Then, far later, they move back to the palace, and Loki takes his place as Thor’s advisor, and Clint learns his new place is on his knees in front of all of Asgard. But he still finds time every morning to watch the sunrise, and Loki finds more and more imaginative ways to make him earn his submission and to serve him. Clint spends his time in worship and awe.

But for now, they watch the sun come up over their new home, and Clint goes to his knees and bows his head. He is in his place and he is where he belongs. Loki has him kneel on the hard stone until his knees ache, has him remember that pain means he is worthy to serve. He has come home. He rests his forehead on the stone and Loki steps on his head, crushes him down until he’s whimpering.

But it’s good. It’s Loki and it’s good. Clint spent so long trying to find his purpose and it’s here, at Loki’s feet. Loki is his own sunrise, the dawn of his life, the reason he gets up in the morning and the last thing he thinks of at night. He might be here because of the Scepter or because of fate or perhaps any other reason. But he didn’t have to come back, and Clint knows this is where he belongs, where they both belong.

Together.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please leave kudos and reviews!
> 
> follow me:  
> tumblr: @deluxemycroft  
> twitter: @whenhedied


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